In Which I Review Mad Men (6x13)

Confession: Once upon a time, Don Draper could get away with anything. He could show up late--or not at all--he could drink, sleep, and berate this way through life because at the end of the day he was charming, sexual, and undeniably good at his job. He excelled at it; Don was one of the best ad men in New York and everyone knew it. Remember the first time we saw him really pitch to a client? It was in the pilot episode and it was to Sterling Cooper's biggest client--Lucky Strike. Don literally comes up with the ad on the spot; the client is walking out and out of nowhere, Don comes up with a stroke of genius that saves everything. That was what made Don Draper valuable to his company; they'd put up with just about anything because he could land the gig. That Don Draper, now a full six seasons later, is buried under booze, cigarettes, regret, fear, self-loathing, two failed marriages, and the destruction of his relationship with his daughter. In other words, ladies and gentleman, Don Draper has left the building. 

"Going down?" In more ways than one,  this season of Mad Men has ultimately been about Don's rapid decent to the point of no return, the lowest of the low, his own rock bottom. We should have seen it coming; that's the beauty of Mad Men, once you've reached the end, the beginning becomes clear and you realize what has been happening all along. Of course this season was going to end with Don losing everything and circling back to where all his issues began. You have to pass through hell in order to get to paradise; the opening of this season showed Don on a beach (a false paradise as Don is not at all happy in his idyllic surroundings) reading what can only be called "not beach reading material." Seriously, who reads the Inferno on their vacation? But now that Don has reached what is perhaps his lowest level of Hell, the Inferno fits better contextually.
"Midway upon the journey of our life/I found myself within a forest dark/For the straight-forward pathway had been lost."
Don has always been a lost scared little boy, looking for that missing piece of himself and now that he has hit middle age, it's becoming far more elusive and the path has been lost altogether. This season, Don has tried everything he could think of to locate his way: drinking, a whore/mother mistress, merging his company with their biggest rivals, speed, hash, toying with moving to California, and pitching ads that reek of desperation and despair, hoping someone might notice (and being Don, rebuffing someone when they did notice).

This episode was full of big moments for Don, but I want to focus on three: the pitch, the fall, and the homecoming. Hershey's wants to advertise (come to think of it, Don is right. Does Hershey even advertise to this day? They don't really need to, do they?) The pitch--the initial one before it all goes to Hell--is very reminiscent of Don's greatest pitch of all times, the Carousel Pitch. It's nostalgic and emotive and, reversely, unlike the Carousel pitch where Don is actually speaking from the heart and speaking of something that is actually true, the Hershey pitch is a boldface lie. Nothing Don says about this happy father and son is even remotely true. Don's father, as we have seen in flashbacks, was cruel and vicious; he beat Don, he kept any kind of affection from him. There was no tousling of hair, no buying of a candy bar after doing a job well done. Don really sells this lie by reminding the client that "the wrapper looked like what was inside." In other words, you know exactly what you're getting. This is perhaps when Don looses it; the line resonates with the client but Don begins to shake; it is one lie too many. The product that is Don--the real Don, the emotionally scared, suicidal, love starved little boy known as Dick--does not look like the wrapper, the cool, charismatic, sexy Don, and so he tells the truth. The truth of Don is not something potential clients want to hear; it's not something you can advertise to anyone, it's dark and sad and you can tell that it scares the clients and Don's so called friends and associates. One of the things that makes Mad Men is the extreme acting ability of its central character played by Jon Hamm. If he doesn't get the Emmy for this moment, then there is no justice in this world. His acting cues were spot on; like the episode where Sally found Don and Sylvia, Don rests his head in his hands, too disgusted and too horrified to really even look anybody in the face as he lays it all out on the table. The line "I dreamt of it...of being wanted" and his confession that the Hershey bought with stolen pick pocketed money as "the only sweet thing in my life" were heartbreaking and for one shinning moment, we remember what it was like to love Don, to not care that he is a self absorbed asshole who destroys lives.

Part of me doubts that Don was actually surprised by the partner's meeting and the "leave of absence." He played it like he didn't see it coming, but that's the great irony of Don's life: his fear that if people learn about who he really is, what his past was really like, they will leave him, turns out to be true in almost every case. Bert Cooper may not have cared in season one that Don Draper was really Dick Whitman, but after the failed Hershey pitch and a season's worth of under-performing as Creative Director, "the verdict has been reached." Take your hat, take your briefcase, and take your mountain of issues and go regroup somewhere that isn't here. Everybody agrees with this decision, even Don's best friend Roger who has always admired Don for being wonderfully creative but also as depraved as he himself is--but even Roger, spoiled, upper class, rich boy Roger--has his limits. Right before this momentous moment, Megan storms out of the apartment because she has once again been screwed over by her husband; she was ready to move out to California and begin again and now Don has taken that away from her. This is the end, I would imagine, of Don's second marriage. Betty left when she learned who Don really was ("would you love you?" Betty asked coldly) and Megan finally sees the light; there is no fixing this marriage and she is gone. Now, Don has lost his daughter, his friends, his second wife, and his job. He has nothing and when we feel at a total loss, we go home.

Round and round and back home again. Don's homecoming is a first for him and for his family. No one has ever seen where little Dick Whitman grew up. This is not a place where he was loved, this is not a place full of happy memories. But this is how Don Draper came to be the man he is. He has revealed the truth to his coworkers and now, he needs to tell the most important person in his life: his daughter. Yes, Bobby and Gene were there too, but that scene was purely for Sally and Don. The look on Sally's face as realization struck was wonderful: horror, disgust, but also sympathy and understanding. Sally told Don earlier this season that she doesn't know anything about him and now she does. Sally is old enough to grasp that something happened to her father a long time ago that damaged him, and while it will take a long time to forgive him for what he did, it will come--after all, she is her father's daughter. While Don is rapidly falling further and further down, Sally is mimicking him. She is buying beer with a false ID, getting drunk and acting just like Don. Her moment of seeing Don and Sylvia has damaged her in the same way that Don was damaged by living with mother/whores. The question now becomes, will Sally run away after she's learned the truth about her father?

The other two plots this episode were Peggy and Pete and how they may have finally gotten what they wanted, but at a step cost. Peggy, after an entire season (ok, many seasons) of being ordered around and used by men (Don, Ted, Abe, ect) finally got that office view, but to do it, she had to lose the one thing she really wanted: love.  Ted is officially scum and I'm glad he is moving out to Los Angles. Peggy was never anything more than a possession, he "never wanted anyone else to have her." Peggy and Ted's final meeting was acerbic and harsh; Ted has options, Peggy doesn't think she has any. Ted can start over in California with a family, Peggy must stay behind. Did anyone else notice what she was wearing in that final encounter with Ted? I'm almost 100% certain it was the blue and orange suit she wore in season five where she meets Ted in the diner and he basically offers her the world if she comes to work for him. Ted giveth and Ted taketh away. In the end, because of Don's blowup, Peggy gets her corner office--she becomes the boss, the wearer of pants (that pant suit was HOT and I want it.) I love that our final image of Peggy for this season is the back of her head as she stares out her new window, very Don Draper like. But it is also a little melancholy. That's not her job, not really. Don will be back someday and what happens then?

Pete now has nothing tying him to New York; he has lost all the anchors that once tethered him to the city. His father died several seasons ago and now his mother is dead at sea (probably at the hands of Monolo, which is hilarious and tragic all at once). Bob Benson managed to squeeze Pete out of the Chevy account (it was a terrible move on Bob's part, even if Pete is a really bad person). Pete's marriage to Trudy fell apart and he has very tenuous relationship with his daughter, Tammy. Unlike Don and Sally, we've never seen Pete and Tammy in any real father-daughter moments, so while the final scene of Pete and his child was very tender, it also felt very out of place. Pete finally gets to be free of everything and the only client man in the business, but as he told Trudy, "it's not how I wanted it."

Miscellaneous notes from In Care Of
 
--Joan lets Roger into Kevin's life, but not hers. I wonder if that will last; I'd like to see Joan and Roger together. Also, Joan, in that pumpkin and spice outfit, her leopard shirt, and green Thanksgiving day dress. Damn.

--Betty and Don have reached a new point in their post-marriage relationship. Betty isn't interested in getting back at Don for all the pain he caused and now she realizes that the divorce had some pretty nasty effects on her children. Despite her efforts, "the good is not beating the bad." I think Don and Betty will be more friendly from here on out, if only for the children.

--Pete may be a slime ball, but Vincent Kartheiser is a great actor and his, "Not great, Bob!" line was maybe the his best delivered line ever.

--Sassy Sally is Sassy and I love it. "I wouldn't want to do anything immoral. You know what, why don't you just tell them what I saw" she tells Don. BURN.

--Vixen by night Peggy. That was some dress.

--Pete and Ted are heading out to LA to start the SC&P west coast branch and I have a hunch Harry will be out there and a partner before long.

--Bob's apron is fabulous. I want it, if only because of its absolute ridiculousness. 

--One more season and it's over. I protest this so much.

In Which I Review Mad Man (6x12)

Confession: I would like to write a letter to one Mr. Ted Chaough. 
Dear Mr. Chaough:
We don't know each other but please allow me to explain what exactly happened to you on this weeks episode of Mad Men. You see, my friend, you just got Draper'd. The act of getting Draper'd has happened to many characters on this show over six years--from clients to coworkers to wives. Everybody at one point gets the full on Don Draper. What exactly is getting Draper'd? I'm glad you asked. Getting Draper'd is when you are beaten into submission by Don; in which you are pulled apart, string my string, until you acquiesce to Don's demands. You are humbled and highly confused. Using words like a surgeon uses a knife, Don manages to humiliate you all while looking dashing, confident and incredibly charismatic; somehow he manages to sell you an idea you didn't want, all while making you look small and petty. In this case, Don managed to sell your idea and point out that you are not as noble as you might imagine, and that Don takes a perverse delight in taunting you with your clandestine affairs. So congratulations, Mr. Chaough. You're officially part of Mad Men! 

Don likes to ruin people's lives, doesn't he? Sometimes he does it intentionally (Peggy and Ted) and sometimes it is an honest accident (Sally)--but whatever the reason, he is awfully good at it. The title of this weeks episode, The Quality of Mercy, is a bit ironic as the stories revolve around people who show no mercy, do not offer apologies or contrition for their actions, but instead wield knowledge and power for the betterment of themselves, not others. In other words, the quality of mercy demonstrated by Don, Sally and Pete this week is zilch. Don has no mercy when it comes to ripping apart Ted and Peggy's happiness--though he'll hide behind the lie that he's "just looking out for the company." Sally has no mercy when she lies her way through an uncomfortable situation and realizes that she has the power to turn men into little boys; she has no mercy when she declares that she doesn't want to see Don again. Pete has no mercy when it comes to belittling Bob and turning him into a plaything, an object he can toy with and use for his own ends.

Let's start with Don, Peggy and Ted. Don's in a bad place at the start of this episode; it's obvious that he's been on a long bender after Sally found him "comforting" Mrs. Rosen in last weeks episode. His wife, Megan, is so oblivious to everything that has been happening that her only advice is to "pull back on the throttle a little." Wow. Even by this point Betty would have recognized that something has gone horribly wrong with Don. The gulf between Megan and Don continues to grow; in their last scene together, Don can neither see nor hear his wife. She stands in the background of their living room, blending into the surroundings and can't tear him away from his darkness. Why is Don so dark right now? In the wake of losing Sally, Don is also confronted with other people's happiness, specifically Ted and Peggy's budding (maybe full on) affair. Ted and Peggy have no idea how to keep this a secret; it's painfully obvious to everyone: Joan, Don, Ted's secretary, Megan (IRONY ALERT). Whatever jealousy and emotional disconnect Ted and Peggy experienced in last weeks episode, they've moved on from it and have become way too cozy with each other. Running into Megan and Don in the movie theater highlights this: they might claim to be on a work project, but that scene read "date night." How uncomfortable were Ted and Peggy trying to quickly lie their way through the encounter? Of course, we are reminded of last years movie theater scene where Peggy and Don run into each other while on legitimate work projects. It's "their thing" and now Peggy is stepping out with another man! Hussy! (and we all know how Don feels about prostitutes). This is the first step toward Don's building anger at the two. Having figured out about Ted and Peggy, Don then learns that the new ad pitch for aspirin, inspired by Rosemary's Baby, has gone over budget and that Ted doesn't want to pull back the throttle because he wants Peggy to get a Clio. How sweet. Don's perfect opportunity to ruin Ted and Peggy's relationship is now presented. At a board meeting with the client, Don takes over the pitch and lays out--in no uncertain terms--that he knows all about Ted and Peggy and he wants to make sure everyone does to. Also, cheating whore-ish Don, does not approve.
Why does this affair bother Mr. Draper so much? Does he have romantic attachments to Peggy? No. At least, not in the traditional sense. He doesn't want Peggy for himself as a romantic partner, but Peggy has become a substitute daughter in the wake of the loss of Sally. In this episode, the editing and scene structure play up the connection between Peggy and Sally. Directly before the boardroom scene where Don and Ted more or less fight over Peggy, we are treated to a young Sally Draper receiving unwanted advances from a very creepy boy. She calls for Glen (hi Glen!) and the two boys get into a scuffle over Sally. This scene is reiterated in the next scene where Peggy stands in for Sally. Having lost the most important woman in his life, his daughter Sally, Don is now confronted with losing his substitute daughter, Peggy, who is also the woman he needs the most. Peggy is the woman who knows him, understands him, and has been with him at his lowest (when he lost Anna). Not only is the Sally/Glen/creepy boy scene replayed, we are also treated to a reinterpretation of the Sally and Don scene from last week. Don lies through his teeth as to why he just Draper'd Ted and Peggy in the board room.

Last week he was "comforting" (or looking after) Mrs. Rosen; this week he's "looking out for the company." Peggy, older than Sally, does not buy it. She flat out tells Don, "you're a monster." This is an exact echo to last week where Sally screamed, "you make me sick!" to Don before running off to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her, just like Peggy does in this scene. The episodes opens with Don in a fetal position in Sally's bed, mourning the loss of his daughter, and it closes with Don in the a fetal position on his work couch, mourning the loss of his substitute daughter.

In another part of Sterling Cooper and Partners (did everyone catch the new logo, by the way? Very groovy and late 1960s with all its flourishes) Pete is dealing with his Bob-problem. Ken Cosgrove wants off the Chevy account and the partners appoint Bob to be his replacement. Small problem, Bob is totally infatuated with Pete and has made this clear. This revelation causes Pete to turn to Duck (hi Duck!) to get Bob a new job. Duck starts checking into Bob's background only to discover that Bob is not who he says he is. He did not go to Wharton, he did not work in finance, he did not do a partnership at a prestigious company. Bob is a fake; he is from rural poor West Virgina and spent the past few years as a manservant to wealthy men. In case you were wondering if we're supposed to be thinking "Dick Whitman/Don Draper" doppelganger, you're right. Bob Benson is Don Draper 2.0. Bob may not have adopted another man's persona, but Bob did make up his life. He went after what he wanted by lying and fooling everyone. The Bob = Don symbolism is complete when Pete confronts Bob on this information and decides that instead of turning Bob over the company, he'll keep Bob's secret but only so long as Bob does exactly what Pete wants. This scene literally could have come straight out of season one where Pete discovers who Don really is. Realizing that Pete knows, Don fears for his carefully constructed life (so did Bob), Don thinks about running (so did Bob). The change here is that Pete has learned from his past mistakes. Pete won't be played for a fool like with Don. He tells Bob that he has learned "not to tangle with  your type of animal." Instead of doing the right thing and turning Bob over to Bert (like he did with Don in season one) Pete works this angle to his advantage, which is what he should have done with Don.

Miscellaneous Notes from The Quality of Mercy 

--Kenny got shot! And if you didn't yell, "Oh my god! They killed Kenny! Those bastards!" then I pity you because you clearly have no concept of American popular culture.

--Sally is going to rebel in the worst way possible: she is going to become her mother. The scene between Sally and Betty at the end may have been the saddest moment in the entire episode, and not because it was actually sad. Betty is delighted that finally she and her daughter are the same age, mentally at least. They are both adolescents who have figured out that how men see them and having men fight over them is simply the best! Now they can gossip and gush like best friends.  Sally is not going to become a hippie; she is going to become Betty Draper 2.0. One of the running themes this episode was the idea of doppelgangers; Bob is Don's and Sally is Betty's, cigarette and all.

--Betty's line, "It's overwhelming to raise a young girl. I don't want to be one" had me laughing for a good three minutes. First off, Betty, when have you ever raised your children? Second, your entire psychological profile is that you see yourself as a young girl who needs a man to care for her. Don't fool yourself, you wish you were applying to boarding school.

--Sally's line, "my father's never given me anything," was heartbreaking. This relationship isn't going to be repaired anytime soon and the only thing Don has given Sally is a future as a therapist's patient. Note Sally's utter horror at the idea of sex. Sex has forever been cemented in her mind as something dirty, done behind closed doors by cheating, lying, adults. Like Don spying in the whorehouse and his traumatized psyche looking for a mother, Sally will probably spend her life looking for a father figure in her romantic partners.

--Holy matchy matchy outfits, Batman! Could Peggy and Ted have been dressed anymore alike? Especially in the final board room scene, both are dressed like the picked out each others outfits: and to drive home the adultery symbolism, both are in blue and green.

--Not nearly enough Joan this episode, but she makes the most of her time. The look Joan gives Ted and Peggy as they flirt with each other was priceless, full of "my god. I work with morons."

Season finale predictions:

We know no one is going to die this season, Matt Weiner has confirmed that at least. However I think the following will happen:

--Megan finds out about Don's affair with Sylvia and the married couple has a huge blow up.
--Sally continues to embody her mother with her hair and clothes
--Peggy, Joan, Ginsburg and Ted leave SC &P to form their own company.
--Don hits absolute rock bottom and our final image of him is drinking, whoring, and drugging his way through the last moments of the episode. This will set us up for the final season of Mad Men, in which our much beloved cast enters 1969, the final year of Don's life. I maintain that Don Draper cannot and will not enter the 1970s. He will throw himself from the SC&P building and become our falling man in the final moments of the show. 

In Which I Review Mad Men (6x11)

Confession: There is an image in my head that, after seeing this weeks installment of Mad Men, I cannot shake. The image goes a little something like this: Matthew Weiner, creator and head writer, is sitting in the AMC offices and says, "I've got an idea for a Mad Men sequel. It takes place in the late 70s/early 80s and follows the adventures of Sally Draper, who is trying to lead a normal healthy life but can't because her parents royally screwed her up and she needs intensive therapy." If you take anything away from this weeks "Favors," it's that Sally Draper is the most pitiable character on the show. 

There is an axiom that states, "no good deed does unpunished" and this weeks episode, Favors, was all about people doing favors for others and having it come back to hurt them. As always with Mad Men, there are several plots running concurrently that all somehow mirror each other. The main thread follows Don as he attempts to find a way for his ex-lover's son, Mitchell, to escape his dreaded placement as A-1, meaning that in the next draft he'll be shipped out to Vietnam. Sylvia, we remember, broke up with Don after he humiliated her and turned her into a whore, red dress and all. Don, of course, was very upset at the ending of their relationship because all relationships must end on Don's terms, so this was the perfect opportunity to sneak back into Sylvia's good graces. If you have any allusions that Don is doing this to be magnanimous, leave them at the door. When told of Mitchell's A-1 status and his desire to become a draft dodger, Don simply tells Megan to leave it alone because, "he can't spend the rest of his life on the run." Don is an expert on this philosophy. It's only after Don and Arnold have drinks and Arnold confesses that he has caught Sylvia in little acts of lying lately that Don decides to assist the Rosen family. The conversation between Arnold and Don is an interesting one: both served in the previous war, both knew it was the honorable thing to do, but this war is different. This war does not make sense in the minds of Americans who are feeling the effects of the cultural revolution--whether they are fighting those changes or moving with the times. Don's agenda may be to help out a friend--his only friend as Ted points out later--but he also knows that Sylvia will be indebted to him for saving her son. After a series of awkward interactions with Pete (who can't help) and the Chevy executives (which is bad for business) Don finds a helping hand in Ted who strikes a bargain: Ted will assist Mitchell in getting out of being a soldier but Don must "be better" at this business; he can't fight Ted anymore, they must work together.

SIDENOTE: Anyone else think it's significant the merger of SCDP and CGC happened this season, when Vietnam has become inescapable? The war has escalated this season, its become a presence in almost every episode--whether it's the news being on in the background of the Draper home, a brief conversation of it at dinner between the Draper's and the Rosen's, the riots at the DNC, or even someone losing a family member to it. The war is slowly taking over 1968 and our new company. The war is a historical reality, of course, but that's not to say that Weiner isn't playing up the metaphor. Two sides who you would think could get along because they are so similar and should be able to work together--in statehood, in advertising, in being able to govern, in being able to pitch to a client--can't. Don and Ted can't see eye to eye on anything except that they needed to merge in order to win the big Chevy account. They have different takes on butter and margarine and they can't agree on which juice company they should represent. Last week Jim Cutler wanted to start thinning the herd with SCDP because it's an "us vs. them" mentality. Ted has been working overtime (to the dismay of his wife) trying to make a unified company, and this week he finally gave in and realizes it may not happen. His (excellent): "I don't want his juice, I want MY juice" line perfectly demonstrates the gulf between the two companies. It may be "all your juice" according to Cutler but the lines between the two companies are as clear as a border between North and South Vietnam.

Don, having saved the day, calls Sylvia to tell her that her son is safe. Sylvia is overcome with gratitude and forgets Don's past terrible behavior. She tells him, "You were good to me, better than I was to you." Really? Did Sylvia make Don wait in a hotel room all day just for her pleasure? Did she make him crawl across the room to fetch her shoes? Did she purposefully dress him in colors and clothing that remind her of a whorehouse, turning Don into a object instead of a person? And of course, this is all Don needs. He can reenter the Rosen residence and sleep with Sylvia, secure in the knowledge that she has learned her lesson: one does not break up with Don Draper. And this is where poor, young, innocent, sweet, hasn't-been-to-any-bases-yet, Sally comes in. In an effort to save herself embarrassment from Mitchell (because Sally has a horrible friend), Sally sneaks into the Rosen house and discovers Don and Sylvia, undressed and having sex in Sylvia's bedroom. Goodbye innocence. Last season, poor Sally discovered Roger and Marie in a compromising position in At The Codfish Ball; that season 5 episode found Sally trying to be a grown up, with her gown and makeup and little go-go boots, but the realization that she is not ready to be an adult came crashing down around her when she caught Roger and Maire. The final lines of the Codfish episode are Sally telling Glen Bishop that the city is dirty, as smog and smoke billow in the background. Sally is still a child; she's growing up and becoming interested in boys, but she is still young. And catching her father in the act of sex with another woman has thrust her into adulthood before she was ready. This is going to have serious repercussions on Sally. There will also be repercussions on Don as well; after almost 6 seasons of being the philanderer, Don has finally been caught in the act, and not by one of his wives. It has often been said that Don is a good father, if not a good man. This is a sentiment with which I used to agree; Don's an absent father, but he does deeply love his children. Now I wonder if I only see him as a good father because he was contrasted with Betty, who is a horrible mother. Sally and Don have always had a special relationship, in many ways she is the most important woman in Don's life besides his mother who's life and death hang over everything Don does and says. And now, Don has probably lost Sally.

The other person this week who's good deeds do not pay off is Bob Benson. The mystery man of season 6 is finally revealed as...GAY. And in love with Pete Campbell? While I am very confused as to why anyone would love Pete, it's nice to have the mystery solved, though I remain hesitant that the full mystery has been put to rest. Bob being gay is fantastic (though it makes me miss Sal from season one through three a lot) and it's about time they had a more out of the closet gay man on Mad Men, but I think there is more to this story. Bob has done Pete the favor off setting up Pete's mother, Dorothy, with Monolo, a Spanish (and obviously gay) nurse. Dorothy finds herself smitten with him and is confused about their relationship; and because it's 1968 and the understanding of dementia is really that poor, Pete believe that Monolo is a pervert who is taking advantge of Dorothy's confused mind. When Pete confronts Bob about it, Bob reassures him that Monolo is not after Dorothy but then transitions to talks of love. Bob asks Pete, "when there's true love, does it matter who it is?" followed by the obvious knee touching. Instant rejection and "it's disgusting" are what Bob is rewarded with from Pete. His good deed of being the bright, chipper, helpful guy has just outed him as a "degenerate" with romantic ambitions toward one of the junior partners. I wouldn't put Bob Benson in the "solved" category yet. We've got two episodes to go and we all know how Weiner likes to play with us. For example, I may be reading way too much into this, but did you notice that the two times we heard--significantly heard and saw--the TV (Peggy's apartment and Don's apartment) the show had something to do with spying? I still think Bob is a spy.

The next two episodes were probably set up by this one: will Sally tell? Is Bob really just a gay man? Will Meghan and Don be able to repair their marriage? Is Meghan going to die? Will Peggy and Ted start something? My only prediction right now is that Ted, Peggy, Pete and Joan will leave SC&P and start their own company. Ted's line, "this is the company I always wanted" over dinner with Pete and Peggy seemed to scream that people are going to jump the SC&P ship.

Miscellaneous notes on "Favors"
   
--No Joan. I don't like it when Joan's not around.

--Peggy vs. the rat. Hello my life. I can't handle mice in my house, but she got herself a cat. Very nice. I really hope she gets out of that apartment soon.

--Peggy and Pete. There was a lot in this episode I wish I could unpack, but the conversation between Peggy and a confused Dorothy followed by the conversation at the restaurant between Peggy and Pete was well written and acted and a definite highlight. I don't know if Peggy and Pete are ever going to rekindle their brief and very tumultuous office romance of season one, but this nice little scene showed what might have been if Pete was not married (and a terrible human being); because Pete is right: Peggy knows him. She really does. I also really enjoyed the line "at least one of us turned out to be useful." How true! Peggy was the little secretary who rose in the ranks to become a very integral part of SCDP, CGC, AND SC&P. Pete may have been on his way up at one point, but like Don his life is falling apart at the seams and he too is becoming that iconic falling man.

--Ted is jealous of the obvious history and connection between Pete and Peggy. I hated being reminded that Ted is married with two kids, because I really like the idea of Peggy and Ted. Despite shutting the door in her face two episodes ago, Ted is in love with her, but is it only because, as Ted's wife says, he "loves a challenge?"

--Major props to Kiernan Shipka who played a devestated Sally perfectly, even mirroring Jon Hamm's acting while he was in the elevator, later when she was in her bedroom.

--The ending song is always a way to tie up the episode as a whole and it is very significant that the ending song was, at first, several seconds of silence (signaling the death of Sally and Don's special bond) and then very maudlin.

--Who finds out about Don and Sylvia next? Megan, the wife, or Betty, the mother? And which reaction will be worse? I really hope there is a showdown between the Draper women and Don.

--I'm not very good at deconstructing the clothes of this show, but I have been following Tom and Lorenzo's "Mad Style Blog." The color palette this season has been blues and greens and yellows. The other important color is red, which is always a call back to Don's childhood in the whorehouse. Now that I know to look for it, it's everywhere. Everyone was in some green or blue or yellow this episode. Sally's dress, upon discovering Don, was both red and blue: symbolizing the depraved sex she witnessed and the power (royal blue) she now has, whether she knows it or not. Peggy is in green while talking to Dorothy and then Pete, who has on blue in his tie, two colors that together symbolize adultery, which is appropriate as they talk about their past in oblique terms.

In Which I Review Mad Men (6x9)

Confession: I don't think I like Don Draper anymore. When we were introduced to him way back in 2007 his raw sexuality coupled with his mysterious past made him the guy every woman wanted to unravel and heal. Now, nine episodes into season six, as those mysterious layers are further pulled back, I'm not sure I'm happy with what we've discovered. An abused, emotionally stunted young boy turns into an abusive, emotionally stunted dead man (literally and figuratively). And in May 26th's episode, I find myself wondering if Don is capable of change (and if Weiner is capable of writing believable character development). 

 When I first began watching Mad Men, the aspect of Don Draper (Jon Hamm) I liked most were all the metaphorical implications of being a man twice dead. His childhood persona of Dick Whitman was killed in Korea in many ways both by Dick himself (lying to the Army) and by Don Draper, the one Dick becomes. This is further compounded by the fact that Don Draper is also a dead man, the real Don having been killed in Korea, his identity assumed by Dick. There is no Dick Whitman and there is no Don Draper and yet there is a man wandering the streets of Manhattan, seducing women, puzzling his coworkers, and coming up with brilliant copy pitches--pitches that are of course built around the idea of selling a lie, a product, an idea of happiness. My favorite line from Mad Men is still, "Love is something guys like me invented to sell nylons." Who better to sell fake ideas of happiness than a man who lives a totally fake life? 

One of my favorite myths from ancient Greece is that of Bacchus (Dionysis) who is twice-born, once from his mother and once from the leg of Zeus. Don Draper is Bacchus in reverse. As we near the end of Man Men's sixth season, and probably the penultimate season for the show as a whole, I wonder if Don will get out of the show alive. How does a man twice dead, who is so emotionally traumatized that he can't equate sex with love (at all) and is in constant need of a mother figure--but one that he can also dominate sexually--survive into the 1970s? If last week's The Crash is any indication, the answer is drugs.

What will make Don Draper happy? That seems to be the question that every season tries to answer and yet we never actually get an answer. Don's American Dream is so opaque and clouded at this point, I don't even think he knows what he wants. A few weeks ago, I re-read The Great Gatsby in anticipation for the new Baz Lurhman movie (which I still haven't seen. Stupid small town with NO movie theater). As I was reading I got distinct Don Draper vibes from the titular Gatsby. Gatsby wants it all: the money, the life, and the girl. The Great American Dream can be summed up by those three things. And yet, even when Gatsby has those three things, he wants more. It's not enough for Daisy to admit that she loves Gatsby, she must also declare that she never loved her husband Tom. In season one of Mad Men, Don appears to have nailed the 1960s equivalent of the American Dream. He has his ideal job in the city, he comes home to a perfectly put together blonde wife and two children and he's got enough money to live a (somewhat) debaucherous lifestyle. And yet, it's not enough. Don may love Betty but his connection to her isn't enough and he has to find that motherly support in the arms of *insert list of woman Don has slept with here* all of whom share common traits: motherhood(the exception of course being Season Four's Faye who was perfect for Don except that she didn't know how to be a mother. Thus, she was very quickly put aside for Meghan after Don witnesses Meghan calming down a sad Bobby over spilled milk. Subtle). If Gatsby is standing out on his dock forever reaching for that enchanted green light, then Don is forever reaching out for a mother/wife/lover figure who can raise the little boy, nurture the adult, and sate the man. No wonder he's never been able to keep a woman.

Which, in a very roundabout way, leads me to this episode The Better Half in which Don screws over all the women in his life (metaphorically and literally) and we are left with the question: who is everyone's better half?

 First there is Peggy: poor, long suffering, confused Peggy. The beginning of this season had Peggy finally taking charge, out from the shadow of Don Draper and heading up her own creative team but now, once again back in the offices of SCDP(CGC--seriously, name this company already!), she's caught in between her two halves: her mentor who got her started, Don, and her new mentor with whom she is also crazy about, Ted. Don expects Peggy to be on his side in the margarine debate while Ted appears to only be interested in ideas in general. Peggy waffles between the two and later, alone, Don calls her out on it.
"He never makes me feel like this," says Peggy
"He doesn't know you," Don replies coldly.

Don and Peggy have always been linked, they both share great secrets (Don, his past and Peggy, her pregnancy). They need each other as evidenced by the season four episode The Suitcase (still the best Mad Men episode to date). Peggy knows how to reel Don back in when he's too close to the cliff and Don knows how to push Peggy to be better. But like all the women Don has in his life, he expects Peggy to be codependent on him, turning to another is unacceptable. Last week, seeing Peggy give Ted a moment of comfort sent Don into a flashback tailspin. This week, it's Peggy being unable to side completely with Don. And, in feeling inferior to Ted creatively and emotionally, Don turns and makes Peggy feel inferior to everything.
Peggy's better half isn't Don, alike though they are. But it isn't Abe either. I've never particularly liked her boyfriend; he talks a good game of social liberal change but also seems content to live off Peggy. I may have given a little cheer when Peggy stabbed him with her makeshift spear (note to Mad Men writers: Peggy should always carry a spear. It's amazing). Peggy's better half is maybe Ted. They challenge each other, they're in the same game of advertising, and perhaps most of all, he is possibly a better version of Don. He's just as driven and creative as Don, but is he honorable? Unlike cold cynical Don, I do think Ted is more interested in the ideas than just *his* idea. He can hear Peggy when all Don wants to hear is himself. The ending between Ted and Peggy threw me for a loop. As soon as Abe broke up with her, I expected Ted and Peggy to be an item. And apparently so did she. And yet, he shuts the door in her face. Is Ted more in love with the idea of the secret love between mentor and protege or is he actually in love with Peggy? But poor Peggy is left out of both offices, out of both men's lives, neither here nor there.

Speaking of not being heard (or for that matter seen), we come to Megan, who is now tasked with playing two roles on her soap opera, who are supposed to be incredibly different but she's struggling to act those difference(I won't lie: I half expected these two characters to be named Niki and Viki but then I had to remind myself that Megan isn't actually on One Life To Live). One of these persona's is a maid, the other a sexy (apparently French) blonde. It could just be me, but the more time passes, the more Megan slowly (de)evolves into Betty Draper. The blonde wig, suddenly cooking dinner, the loneliness in her marriage: all callbacks of Betty Draper of seasons past. At one point Megan tells her drunken (and apparently lesbian) friend that she doesn't want to become a cliche (speaking of her TV character but we know that's only a vehicle for what's happening in Megan's real life) but in my eyes Megan is becoming such a cliche. The actress with the husband at home who is only encouraged when she's not doing so well because once her career takes off, Don is out the door. At the end of the episode, Megan tells Don that she's missed him for a long time now. Unlike some critics and fans of the show, I really liked season 5 of Mad Men. Not necessarily because of Megan, but rather because it was refreshing to see Don evolve into a...person. They were happy together, it was a nice change from seasons past. But now, the shininess of the new toy known as Meghan has worn off and she's become yet another background character in the revolving play of Don Draper's life. Don may have missed her at the end, but only because he was confronted with a happy Betty and Henry scene. Meghan's better half? In her eyes, it's probably Don because they did start off strong but she hasn't learned, as Betty has, that she "can only hold your attention for so long." Megan became too familiar and too independent. Whoops!

Speaking of Betty: she is both seen and heard in this episode. Everyone wants her: random guy at party, her husband Henry, gas station attendant, her ex-husband Don. Betty is back in fighting form and relishing it. Betty's better half may actually be herself. She's always viewed herself as a pretty princess who needs a strong man to take care of her, and now that she is back to her original Betty-ness, she can have any of those men she wants. Normally, I find Betty Draper a distasteful bore who is also the worst mother in the history of mothers, but apart from her overt need to sleep with everyone, she was quite charming this episode. She knows who Don is now and manages to use it against him. Betty knows he won't resist the open door, the invite into her bedroom. But she also knows that in the morning, she is holding all the cards: he's alone and she is not. Quite the reversal of roles: she has become Don.

Which brings us back to Don and his better half. Does he have one? Is Don capable of having a better half? Don is such a confusing array of people (Dick, the real Don, husband, father, abused, abuser, ad man, and whatever else is inside his head) that he simply cannot find/make room for anyone else. Try as he may to find just what he's looking for, he'll always be Don from season one who had it all and still wanted more, which is the running theme of this episode: everything as it was.

Miscellaneous notes from The Better Half
 --Duck Philips makes a surprising return! And not to crap on Roger's chair!
--Peter Campbell as the man no one can see or hear, except Bob who keeps popping into scenes and who I am having a hard time warming up to. 
--The little sing-a-long in the restaurant was adorable.
--I'm going to reiterate my need for Peggy to be carrying a spear at all times.
--Roger and his grandson were very cute but I wish Joan would let Roger back into her life. They belong together.
--Mosquito's don't bother Betty. Of course not. She has ice in her veins instead of blood.