Mad Men: The Wheel

 "You'll have to give back that copy of Ayn Rand..."

This is an interestingly brave, yet satisfying finale. We don't have the climaxes of last season- Peggy aside- as we end not with a dramatic peak but a satisfyingly relaxed wrapping up. This finale is all about families, none of them perfect.

This is obviously the case for Don, who never has one growing up and- as we found last week- feels semi-detached from his family, preferring to work rather than join them for Thanksgiving. Yet he has an epiphany of sorts in his presentation- brilliant as ever- for Kodak, using his own family snaps and getting a little emotional- a sublimely judged performance from Jon Hamm- at the thought of the family he has. Yet the scenes of his returning home, gathering his children in his arms and joining the family for Thanksgiving are shown just to be in his head; the reality is a cold, lonely house, all alone.

Betty finally realises, too, after Francine comes to her for help with her own husband's infidelity, that she's always known about Don's unfaithfulness and is finding it harder and harder to pretend. Then there's Pete, in his strained marriage, under pressure from his fayher-in-law to sire an heir. There's Harry, thrown out of his house after his dalliance last episode and sleeping in the office. Even Peggy's promotion to junior copywriter, a huge achievement for this quietly ambitious young woman- and another humiliation for Pete, who seems desperate to please a stern, uncaring father figure in Don- is followed by the shock of realising she's pregnant and about to give birth, a woman in a man's world after all. And, when shown her baby son, she turns her head away...

The Kodak Carousel may show a surface world of happy families. But they are nothing but.

Another season of Mad Men will be coming to this blog before too long. This is delicious, exquisite telly.

Mad Men: Shoot

 "I like this show. Very gay songs."

Once again, Mad Men gives us a devilishly clever forty-seven minutes of television. Ostensibly it's about a bigger, rival agency trying to poach Don from Sterling Cooper, unsuccessfully in the end, and the use of a modelling job for Betty as a quid pro quo. Yet it's so much more than that. It's about contemporary attitudes to women working and how they need the implied permission of their husbands, and how being at work is seen, unthinkingly, as neglecting her role as mother. It's all done with admirable subtlety.

Peggy, on the other hand, is now seeing the downside of her copywriting success, no longer seen as sexy now that she's a bluestocking- leading Pete to take extreme measures to defend his masculine definition of her "honour". And yet, in this man's world, Peggy seems to be confident she can go places, much to Joan's well-meaning bemusement. 

The ending, though, is clever, and not only pecause it makes the title a pun on both modelling and firing a shotgun, as she takes elegant revenge on at least one man who has dared to wrong her. This is wonderfully symbolic of something much deeper, and the perfect ending to an elegantly well-crafted episode.

Mad Men: Marriage of Figaro

 "He could be Batman for all we know..."

This is, of course, an episode about marriage, the monogamy that it represents. Hence Pete's return from honeymoon. Hence the varied conversations about temptation from both sexes. Hence Peggy accepting stoically that Pete is now forbidden goods. Hence the sudden awkwardness once Don sheepishly admits his marriage mere seconds after kissing Rachel like a proper Hollywood alpha male.Hence, indeed the downright evil whisperings aimed at poor, divorced Helen Bishop by the smug wives at the birthday party- and the arrogant assumption by a representative man that this makes her susceptible to transparent advances.

And yet this is also, I think, about how being part of a couple gives us an identity. It's 1960, so this is automatically the case for women, of course, not that we in 2022 are even close to shaking off the misogyny inherent in the tropes of marriage, which we still see as an "institution". There are variations, of course: Helen, in suburbia, is all but an outcast, laughed at for her habit of walking by lazy, car-addicted bitches. Yet Rachel, as a business woman, is defined by her work. Of course, she is also defined by other things, as a despicable anti-semitic comment at the party reminds us.

But it's also seen as central to a man's identity and dignity to be able to show himself to be married. Don has this, and so he can exist in a world where his past seems a bit murky and he is seen as just a little bit mysterious, the one with the camera looking at the party guests rather than truly being seen by others. And yet... an apparent stranger recognises hm as Dick Whitman. Who IS Don Draper?

This is bloody good.