Mad Men Goes Bi-Coastal

On the first episode of Mad Men, Don pitched a spontaneous and exciting ad for Lucky Strike, surreptitiously cheated on his wife, and established himself in the viewers’ minds as the man who ruled Madison Avenue. On the past three episodes of the show’s final season, Don agreed to humiliating terms for his return to SC&P, turned down an advance from an attractive woman, established himself as the butt of Madison Avenue’s jokes.

Oh, how far we’ve come.

These changes have been a long time coming to be sure, but watching Don Draper’s descent has been shocking. The juxtaposition of his power and prowess at the beginning of the show with his current helplessness and futility is alarming, and I don’t think that he believes it himself. Don has been deteriorating since the show began; after all, the show started when he was in his prime. However, his current dejection is mirrored by that of several other characters, including some unexpected choices on the part of the screenwriters.

Peggy was once a strong, empowered woman whose wit was piercing and independence was fierce, but these past three episodes have witnessed Olsen crying on her knees behind closed doors, throwing self-absorbed temper tantrums, and obsessing over floral misunderstandings (since when does she care about Valentine’s Day?!). Granted, she is coping with some major changes. She is now single after her rather violent (though unintentionally so) break-up with Abe and subsequent rejection by Ted, and she has a new frustrating boss to deal with. That being said, Peggy needs to get over herself, get off the carpet of her apartment, and get it together before she officially becomes pathetic.

Speaking of the new boss, Don’s replacement is a truly detestable character. Lou Avery lacks the spirit and creativity of his predecessor, and frankly doesn’t seem to give a rat’s a** about the quality of the agency’s work. What happened to the days of the Kodak Carousel pitch that made Harry Crane weep, or the “it’s toasted” line that knocked the Lucky Strike executives’ Southern socks off? SC&P has perhaps become “ragged in spirit,” a phrase borrowed from Nixon’s description of America in his inaugural address at the end of this season’s first episode.

However, many of the characters can’t be blamed for lack of trying. Don’s attempts to repair his relationship with Sally might be misguided (since when is a dine-and-dash a bonding, father-daughter activity?), but with good intentions. In the end, his efforts pay off. He and Sally have perhaps begun the road to recovery after last season’s jaw-dropping, soul-shattering moment of truth in which Sally truly realizes, and sees for herself, the extent of her father’s exploits and lies.

Don and Betty both struggle to become better parents in these episodes, but the latter’s attempts are more helpless than ever. Betty’s anxiety about her maternal qualities is understandable; Sally didn’t exactly vote her “Mother of the Year” when she announced that she wanted to go to boarding school. However, Betty’s reaction is overly dramatic as usual, and her insecurities appear to be both justified and self-inflicted during her hissy fit on Sunday’s episode.

Both Betty and Don act desperately throughout this past episode. Don’s surprise trip to LA is disastrous, especially once Megan discovers his dishonesty about his mandated leave of absence from work. His frantic explanation to her about his improvements (no more cheating, drinking, or binging!) reminds us how much he truly has amended his behavior but also how far he has to come. It’s as if you could hear him acknowledging his mistakes in his voice even while he was justifying them to Megan. He knows he screwed up, yet at that point in the episode he still wasn’t ready to face facts. Only after realizing that his most recent deceit of his wife is potentially irreparable does he come to his senses. He contacts Roger, faces the awkwardness of coming into the office, and accepts the restrictive terms the partners set for his return. Tarzan, as Pete Campbell described him, has been tamed.

Not all the characters are falling into a pit of self-loathing and despair, however. Joan is quickly becoming the new and improved Peggy, working her way up to the second floor and a new office. It was high time that someone noticed how much of the weight Joan truly was pulling at SC&P and rewarded her for it. Perhaps Joan will become Peggy 2.0; she has better business-savvy and innate life experience than Peggy will ever have. I can only hope that she won’t always be remembered for and reminded of the sickening way that she obtained the title of “Partner.”

Perhaps the best way to see this new season of Mad Men is to view it as a finalization of the generational shift that has been gradually taking place over the course of the series. A new generation of miniskirt-wearing, counterculture-espousing adults has taken over the SC&P office. While Bert Cooper might still be stuck in the 1950s with his antiquated ideas about race, Dawn’s promotion shows an enormous change in attitude from days past. Joan is moving up, Megan is taking charge of her failing relationship with Don, and the 1970s are beginning. Maybe it’s okay that Don won’t ever crawl out of the hole he made for himself and reclaim his former commanding identity. As they say, out with the old and in with the new.