How would you like a full serving of your past? (Courtesy: AMCtv)
Mad Men isn't Lost.
There is no final Big Question we're trying to answer, no couples we're hoping to see reunited.
To be sure, we want to know what the future will be like for Sally, Peggy, Joan, and a few others, but by and large, we know who these people are, and their fates are generally locked in. While some of the women have significant opportunities to improve their lives, thanks to the feminist revolution, for the men their fates have been sealed long ago. Sure, we don't know when Don Draper's going to die, but we can be pretty sure that when he does, he'll be lonely, sad, and unfulfilled, "an aging, sloppy, selfish liar," still believing he can sell the next woman on what he has to offer.
And this week, to be sure, was a parade of Don's past women, including more Death Brunettes than ever before. Grab your clubs, fix yourself a milkshake, and join me below the fold.
This was not a great episode of Mad Men. Yes, a lot happened, but nothing really changed.
Don pursued another dark-haired sad woman, who had suffered her own loss, but who knew after an initial attraction that Don was not right for her. We have seen this before.
And Don saw that his children, and his ex-wife, were doing just fine without him. We have seen this before.
Peggy was uncomfortable around a woman in control of her sexuality, complicating her efforts to be strong in the workplace. We have seen this before.
Harry Crane is a pathetic lecher. We have certainly seen this before.
Roger Sterling will have sex in inappropriate places without thinking about the consequences. We have seen this before.
And Pete Campbell has a hard time fitting in. We have seen this before.
M.I.A. this week: Joan Harris, Brian Krakow, Sally Draper, some Resolve carpet spray, a whole lot of Don's furniture.
* * *
Margaret Lyons:
Diana herself is on such a repeating loop that she's still using the shampoo she bought when she lived in Wisconsin. (Lady, they sell shampoo in New York, too.) But maybe it takes her back home again, to a place she knows she's loved. Unlike that dingy room she lives in — a space that conjures Adam Whitman's SRO, or Don's bachelor apartments.
Don and Diana are just part of this cycle. Megan loops, too, wearing her striking blue minidress that she wore in the season-seven premiere, "Time Zones."
Mark Lisanti:
Abandonment issues don’t just disappear over a couple of barely sipped homemade Fribbles, Don. They’ll remember. It’s not exactly the childhood trauma of, say, being raised in a Depression-era whorehouse, but each generation faces its own challenges. Don’t be surprised when Gene tries to swap identities with a runny-nosed but two-parented brat on the playground. And Bobby has switched himself out like five times already. Do you see the pattern? They learned it by watching you, Don. They learned it by watching you. Stay for goddamned dessert next time. Don’t let Henry drink your milkshake.
Nolan Feeney, dissenting:
This wise, compassionate and magnanimous side of Don is one we’re seeing more and more of as the series winds down, but he was especially present in “New Business”: Don ignored Roger’s rant about not backing down from a divorce fight; he gave Pete some practical advice about rebuilding your life after a marriage ends (seriously though, can Mad Men not afford better green-screen technology than whatever was happening during that car scene?); and then he fulfills his promise to always take care of Megan, not because he’s weary of divorce drama, but because he genuinely believes that’s the right thing to do. When Don Draper starts looking like the most well-adjusted person in the series, you know Mad Men has come a long way.
Matt Zoller Seitz:
He’s a sexual version of the boy who cried wolf, a parable that shows how liars are rewarded: On the occasion when they finally tell the truth, nobody will believe them. That’s a terrible position to be in if you’re someone like Don, who’s trampled a lot of people during his time but now seems to be making a sincere effort to improve his character. ...
Unfortunately, everything about Don’s current circumstances all but screams, “Don’t trust this man” — the faintly hostile elevator conversation with Sylvia and Arnold (which hinted that maybe Sylvia has confessed her affair with Don in the months since it ended), and the way Don assured Diana that he was divorced, then separated, and the way he hustled her out of his bedroom before Megan and her family came by to prepare for the move-out. A quote from The Royal Tenenbaums came to mind: “Can’t somebody be a shit their whole life and try to repair the damage?” Maybe not in this case, or in this way. Maybe it’s just too soon, or too late.