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Gaius Marius posted:Iykyk But I don't know! 
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Mar 29, 2022 06:51
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| # ? May 25, 2024 07:40 |
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There is an article from Weiner which I won't link because it was done right before the finale and has some spoilers for later seasons. I'll post some quotes.quote:What were you trying to say about Jewish identity and how it changed? Stan as a character has really evolved from his season 4 roots - coming off the Johnson campaign, a bit more strait-laced, into the bearded hippie now. He may be against Vietnam, but not against war in general. The US' and the entire West's relationship with Israel was pretty different in 68, even more different in 1960 when they bring it up in Season 1. Post 73 is when you see big changes in Israel's perception in the non-US West. So it could be a couple things - because of RFK's assassination, or because Stan isn't the kind of person to have a Che poster, or just because Stan thinks dude in an eyepatch looks badass.
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Mar 29, 2022 07:30
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Well that makes a lot of sense, and I had kind of forgotten that early season plotline about them aiming for Isreali Tourism as an account, and the reminder that Exodus was a giant hit of a book with a ton of Americans being super-hyped up for Israel. Guess I just never considered Stan as the type to put up a poster of a military commander, though yeah I can see how he'd probably think Che would be too "normal" a poster to put up?
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Mar 29, 2022 07:47
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I kinda doubt there's any considered meaning behind Stan having it in particular. Stan's got kind of a recovering frat boy thing going on.
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Mar 29, 2022 08:00
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Stan is struggling with his repressed homosexuality. Having a one eyed monster on his wall is just good foreshadowing.
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Mar 29, 2022 08:08
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Season 6, Episode 11 - Favors Written by Semi Chellas & Matthew Weiner, Directed by Jennifer Getzinger Bob Benson posted:When there’s true love, does it matter who it is? Collecting her things in the morning as she nibbles on a bit of toast, Peggy is about to head out the door of the apartment she now lives alone in when she spots a rat scurry by along the wall and over the top of a set rat-trap. With a squeal of fright, Peggy races out the door... or would, if she didn't have to stop first to undo the multiple locks on the door. At SC&P (what a relief that they finally have a name!), Dawn greets Don when he arrives for work and lets him know that Mr. Sterling is waiting inside for him. They both hear the sound of thumping and overturned glasses, and a resigned Dawn asks Don if he'd like her to fetch some ice, obviously figuring Roger is drinking. Don simply asks for coffee and steps inside, where he finds Roger on his hands and knees and can't resist commenting that it's one thing to find him BY the bar and quite something else to find him UNDER it. But Roger hasn't been drinking (well, no more than usual) and the thumping wasn't the sound of drunken clumsiness. He's dropped oranges on the floor and collected them, and they're not just any oranges: they're Sunkist. Yes, it seems the meetings they held in Los Angeles weren't entirely a waste of time after all, Sunkist has sent them a crate of oranges which means they are open to giving SC&P their business. Roger tosses him an orange, telling him he wants him to get Research onto it and then get his idea-factory working. But Don already has ideas, and he knows they're ones Sunkist doesn't like: they're too cheap to move out of solely print advertising, and Don envisions a television strategy. So no, this isn't a job for Research but for Media, Harry Crane needs to find a way to convince them to be open to television advertising, and THEN Don can get the Idea Factory up and running. He tosses the orange back to Roger, who incorporates it deftly into the juggling he was practicing that caused the initially heard thump. Don can't help but be impressed at the smoothness of this unexpected ability, and a beaming Roger reminds him that it turns out not ALL surprises are a bad thing. Upstairs, Carla leads Dorothy Campbell and her male nurse Manolo to wait outside of Pete's office as he finishes up a meeting. Manolo, immaculately groomed and beaming a pleasant, friendly air, expertly predicts Dorothy's desires and asks Carla to get her some tea, though Mrs. Campbell can't help but stress grumpily to Carla that she wants the tea in a tea-cup! Pete's meeting has ended and Peggy steps out of the office holding art for Ocean Spray, Pete commenting to her that he's not looking forward to flying up to their upcoming meeting in Ted's plane. He greets his mother and asks to speak with Manolo for a moment, who of course agrees but takes a moment to assure Dorothy he won't be long and that her tea is coming. "I'll be fine, I'm not a child," she responds, but with zero of the aggression or hostility she might normally show... in fact she's beaming almost girlishly as she tells Manolo this. As Pete leads Manolo into his office, he asks Peggy if she would mind, gesturing towards his mother, and is gone before she has a chance to answer. With Carla gone, Peggy is in the awkward situation of really having no choice but to stay and entertain Dorothy, putting on a big smile and telling her how nice it is to meet her. Dorothy, in a great mood today, takes a seat on the waiting couch and asks Peggy to join her, insisting she doesn't need to be so formal. In fact she's thrilled to see Peggy, admitting she is relieved to see her and Peter back together. Peggy shrugs and admits that was more a result of the Agencies merging, but Dorothy - as together as she seems otherwise today - is clearly confused, insisting that it was wonderful they both swallowed their pride if only for the good of the child they have together. For one horrible moment, Peggy has no idea what is happening, her first and most obvious thought being that Pete told his mother that she'd unknowingly had his child and given it away. She doesn't know how to deal with it, may in fact have successfully buried the thought deep beneath the whirlwind events of the close-to-a-decade that has passed since that insane 1.5 Night Stand only to have it come crashing back into her life headfirst: YOU HAD A BABY! YOU HAD A BABY WITH PETE! DID YOU FORGET YOU GAVE BIRTH TO A CHILD AND GAVE IT UP? HI, I'M CATHOLIC GUILT! "Your son and I are not.... together that way," a stunned Peggy finally manages to whisper, but Dorothy enthusiastically encourages her not to deny Pete.... or rather she encourages Trudy not to. Because yes, she thinks she's talking to Trudy Vogel, who she always approved of from the beginning and clearly thought was one of the few things Pete did right in life. "Don't reject his caresses," insists Dorothy, and Peggy - feeling awkward but on less stomach-dropping ground now - starts to try and explain things, only to be knocked for a loop again when Dorothy gushes about how she found something special with Manolo, and waited far too long to experience the physical satisfactions of love! Peggy stares wide-eyed, unsure how to react, Dorothy beaming at her, and finally turns and looks around for Carla, chuckling uneasily as she asks if she went to China to get that tea!   Unaware of all this - as Manolo may be himself, this is possibly(probably?) all in Dorothy's head - Pete is writing a check for Manolo in his office, lauding him for the phenomenal job he has done looking after his mother after he'd given up all hope of finding somebody, paying him for an extra day since he agreed to drive her to Bud's. Manolo of course plays down his exemplary service, and when Pete tries to slip some extra cash as a thank you he does exactly what he is supposed to do and warmly refuses the kindness. Pete of course takes this as another sign of Manolo's quality, insisting and pressing the money into his hand, and when Manolo gives a little bow of gratitude and backs out of the office, Pete is even more impressed. Bob Benson really came through for him, he's been worth every penny and more besides, and he can only agree with Manolo's own assessment that Bob is a great salesman. Which, of course, is probably exactly what Bob was hoping for when he suggested Manolo as a solution to Pete's woes. At the Francis' living mausoleum, Betty hangs up the phone in the kitchen and demands Sally get in here immediately. Sally arrives with, of course, an attitude, acting indifferent to what could possibly be the problem when Betty accusingly informs her that Julie's mother just let her know that Sally and Julie would be the only girls going on this upcoming trip. "So?" she sneers, and Betty snaps that she will NOT be spending the night in a Midtown Hotel with a bunch of boys, rejecting the notion of Miss O'Shea being a suitable chaperone since she's only 25. So... what? She thinks a 25-year-old would let some teenage kids have an orgy? Henry, whose,"HELLO!" went unheeded when he arrived home, enters the kitchen complaining that there isn't much point to having a mansion if you only ever go into the kitchen, just in time to hear Sally complain that if this is the case then she won't be part of the Model UN, which was after all HIS idea as she gestures somehow both accusingly AND condescendingly in Henry's direction. Betty calls her bluff though, agreeing that Sally won't be going to the UN, which immediately makes Sally - who just issued the original snarky ultimatum - to sullenly negotiate, pointing out she can stay at daddy's. That isn't much better to Betty though, who remembers the disaster of the burglar and complains Sally only suggested this because she knows it means she'll be effectively left alone there. Sally storms out of the kitchen complaining that Betty hates that daddy supports her dreams (a dream that she just complained was Henry's idea!) and doesn't just think of her as a pain in the rear end. "YOUR FATHER'S A HERO!" Betty mockingly yells after Sally as she strides out of the kitchen, before complaining to a perplexed Henry who just wanted to come home and have some dinner and watch some goddamn TV that Diplomacy Club has become like everything else in America: an excuse to make out. He shrugs, agreeing that he actually wanted her to join the Student Congress since he thinks the actual United Nations is a joke (of course he does). That's not what's bothering Betty though, she doesn't give a poo poo about Student Congress or the Model UN or anything else, she's having another clash of wills with her growing, increasingly rebellious daughter. Don arrives home not to an argument but an unexpected and not entirely pleasant sight: his wife sitting on the couch talking closely to a very young but very handsome man. "Who's this?" he asks, a pleasant but warily confused smile on his face that suggests a mild suspicion he really doesn't deserve to have, given HE is the one who is constantly cheating on his wife. All that goes out the door though when Megan explains this is Sylvia and Arnold's boy, Mitchell. A smile on his face, he extends his hands and greets him, saying it is good to finally meet him. After a brief hesitation, Mitchell shakes his hands but then appears to put the old, conservative man out of his mind, almost in a dismissive way as he makes a point of instead thanking Megan for her help before leaving without otherwise acknowledging Don at all. Don watches him leave, both amused and a little confused by his attitude, and asks Megan what he wanted. Clearly torn between her desire to tell him and the fact that Mitchell spoke to her in confidence, she finally admits that he's in big trouble: he's 1-A. Don is perplexed, that shouldn't be possible given he is a college student, he should have an Education Deferment. But it turns out that Mitchell, being an idealistic but also naive kid, sent his draft card back as an act of protest, and so the US Military took it upon themselves to reclassify him as now being ripe for plucking at any time to be sent off to Vietnam. "Stupid kid," sighs Don, but warns Megan not to get involved, pointing out it is not their place. That is why Mitchell came to see her, because she comes from Canada, and his only thought now is how to escape either jail or Vietnam (and potentially death), and wanted her advice on how he could get there. Don reminds her without explicitly having to point out his own past that you can't live your life on the run, even though it's clear he is as horrified as her at learning that Arnold and Sylvia's kid is being forced over to Vietnam to fight in a war he not only doesn't want to be in but is fundamentally opposed to. Instead, he moves to the drinks cabinet to pour himself a stiff one, his final word on the subject not sitting well with either of them, Megan obviously miserable and wanting to do something to help their friends' kid from having his entire life ruined (or possibly ended).   It appears that the Ocean Spray meeting that Pete wasn't thrilled about went extremely well (or extremely badly!) as that evening finds Ted, Pete and Peggy drunk and giggling stupidly over drinks at a little restaurant. Or rather Peggy and Pete are, Ted is keeping himself somewhat under control since he is, after all, their pilot. He is having a good time though, and is surprised to learn that the reason Pete is so drunk (and on Dramamine!) is that he doesn't like flying... and even more surprised to discover why, as Pete explains his father died in a plane crash. "Was he a pilot?" asks a concerned Ted, which makes Pete scoff with pleasure at the thought of his father learning to do something like that, explaining he was simply a passenger. The memory of his father's death doesn't have him down in the dumps though, he's high on their apparent success with Ocean Spray (plus the booze and Dramamine!) and sets Peggy off giggling and calling him "such a New Yorker" when he promises if he can have another drink he'll hail a cab to home from White Plains! Sighing with pleasure, Ted admits that THIS is what he envisioned when he made his own Agency, and this is exactly the kind of Agency he stills wants to have today. "Ambition, brains and beauty," he beams, and Peggy craftily leans forward and conspiratorially asks,"But what about him?" as she looks Pete's way. Amused, Ted jokes that he'll have to cut off her drinks too, and Pete can't help but notice the chemistry between Peggy and Ted... or the way she looks at Ted while he's looking at his watch and NOT at her. Remarking he needs to call home, Ted gets up and leaves the table, and as Pete splits Peggy's arriving whiskey sour so he can get in that extra drink after all, he asks her how she thinks it affects Ted's wife every time he flies a plane. This was a feint, to see how she would react, and he accurately points out that she clearly doesn't want him mentioning Ted's wife... and what that implies. At first Peggy tries to wave that off, but she's also clearly been yearning to get this weight off her chest. So when Pete presses, she capitulates, admitting that she does have a thing for Ted... but he's married, nothing can ever happen between them. Pete, for once not being the jealous type (not that he has any kind of claim to Peggy, but still!) insists that Ted clearly has a thing for her too, but Peggy - now somewhat relieved by confession - turns that around, joking that Pete is the one in love with Ted. "I could use an account," Pete admits,"And he's been generous." Let's reflect for a second on this line. Remember Jim Cutler's suggestion - at first rejected by Ted but later seemingly adopted as a fait accompli - that they essentially take over the newly merged Agency without the other Partners grasping what was happening? Jim suggested Pete would be the "Doorman" in that situation, essentially somebody who is inside without really being considered a true resident: there to perform a needed and vital task, but largely powerless. This suggests a level of cynicism on Ted's part that probably isn't really there, but his own actions - even if unintended - certainly seem to be falling into line with Cutler's strategy. "At least one of us ended up important," Pete admits in a rare moment of genuine vulnerability, before his face falls and he quietly asks Peggy to please tell him she doesn't pity him. She doesn't, she promises, and he admits that she is one of the only people who REALLY know him. While that is overstating their relationship somewhat in spite of the massive impact they've had on the other's life, Peggy takes a second and quietly agrees that she does, and for just a moment there is a real connection between them... not a re-ignition of the bizarre sexual chemistry they somehow had when they first met but perhaps a sign of what might have been if they hadn't gone around their whole "relationship" in such an rear end-backwards way. The moment makes Peggy consider something, and timidly she admits that she has been trying to figure out if she should say something. She explains she had a strange conversation with his mother, which he jokes isn't unusual, and when she explains that she thought Peggy was his wife he isn't surprised, and is amused that she thinks "Manuel" is her husband, pointing out his father never treated her as well as Manolo does. Still dancing around the subject, she explains Dorothy appears to be in love with Manolo, but again Pete thinks nothing of it, admitting he's a very charming man... until finally Peggy just comes right out and says it: she thinks she is MAKING love to Manolo. Now he is paying attention! Leaning forward dangerously, he tells her to tell him exactly what Dorothy said. But when Peggy hesitantly asks if his father ever gave Dorothy spa treatments that "ignited a fire in her loins" his disgusted reaction is played for laughs, and they both can't help but get the giggles. Because, his momentary suspicion aside, Pete clearly thinks this is just a matter of his mother being confused, rather than the much darker possibility that perhaps Manolo actually IS sleeping with his mother, an idea he probably doesn't even remotely consider a possibility because like so many people he assumes that elderly people don't have sex, or that anybody could see his mother in any kind of sexual light. Ted returns to find them both cackling over the mental image that has been created in both their heads. "I have never been less afraid of flying in my life," Pete proclaims, he and Peggy both breaking down into deliciously stupid laughter. Ted has no idea what is going on but is enjoying the good spirits, motioning for the check before he looks back and spots Peggy and Pete aren't just laughing together but are SMILING happily at each other too. Now he finds himself in Pete's position, seeing a connection between these two and feeling like the outsider, cut off from what could have been/almost was but now seemingly never can be.   Don is pouring himself (yet another) drink when he hears the doorbell ring. "Honey, who's that gonna be?" he calls out to Megan, perhaps expecting her to come out, walk past him and go to the door to answer it for him since such a task is far beyond his capabilities (like hanging up his own hat and coat). When there is no answer, he opens the door and is surprised to find Arnold there, with perhaps the always lurking fear that he has found out about the affair probably the first thing on his mind. But no, Arnold has come to offer his thanks and apologies for them getting dragged into Mitchell's business today. With a sigh, Megan admits she didn't know whether to tell him or not, but Arnold explains Mitchell told them because he figured Megan probably would otherwise, and the last thing he wants is for her to get pulled into the middle of it all as well. Sylvia in particular is taking it badly, treating it like Mitchell is dying and wanting to keep it a secret from everyone. Megan offers him a drink but he doesn't think that would be appropriate, sitting drinking only a floor up from where his wife and son are screaming at each other over his idiocy getting him sent to war.... so he and Don go drink in a bar instead! Yes, Arnold finally got that chance to go out drinking at night with Don that he always wanted and Don always couldn't attend (sometimes because he was busy loving Arnold's wife!), though under far from ideal circumstances. They try light small-talk at first, Don busting his balls over being a Mets fan. But they can't dance around the subject for long... especially when Arnold admits that Sylvia has been lying to him about a lot of little things recently and he's suspected something was wrong all year, Don wanting to get the gently caress away from that subject. It turns out that Mitchell has dropped out of school, one of those things he suspects Sylvia is lying about not knowing about. He blames Mitchell's trip to France in the middle of the Paris Riots for warping his mind, assuming that as an expatriate revolutionary he got a lot of girls and so of course he wanted to keep that momentum going once back in America. Don points out there must be a solution to get him out of this mess, mildly surprised when Arnold dismisses the idea of using his own clout as one of the country's top surgeons to try and help his son. It's not that he doesn't want to (or rather, he'd probably like to teach his youthfully arrogant son a lesson, just not a potentially fatal one) but that he fears it is too late: he's 1-A, it doesn't matter now if he goes back to school, he could be called up tomorrow and there is nothing they can do about it. Arnold is looking to vent his emotions, and Don finds himself momentarily the target of them when he points out that on some level you have to admire Mitchell's idealism. He sneers that Don sounds like Sylvia, but she doesn't buy into Mitchell's bullshit anymore than Arnold does: she certainly isn't going to let him rot in jail for a cause if he refuses to be drafted or tries to go on the run. He asks how Don would react if it was him, and when Don asks if he means one of his kids (Bobby and Gene blessedly far too young to be in danger) or himself, Arnold asks a question that Don is often at pains to answer: he served, didn't he? Don agrees that he did, and is obviously uncomfortable when Arnold asks if he saw action. Not (solely) because this subject brings him dangerously close to the great, weighty secret of his life and identity, but because the "action" he saw was horrifying and not something he wants to recall. But he points out it was different for him than it is for Mitchell, because he WANTED to go to Korea... and then the moment he was there he wanted out. Arnold chuckles ruefully at that, after all that is how "they" get you: 18-19-year-olds have no sense of their mortality (or anybody else's, points out Don), it's a sad truth that this is what makes them good soldiers. For Arnold himself, he served in a hospital in "Pusan", the military paying for his medical school education that has made him the success he is today. He only partially agrees with Don's statement that they were both lucky, saying that the real luck is being born in America: service is part of the bargain that comes with the wealth and success, a sacrifice made voluntarily and happily... until Don makes a statement that Arnold, for all his patriotism, cannot deny: "The war is wrong." Arnold admits that his great fear is that his son is soft, and one of the most likely to be killed if thrust into war. Finally his anger and his determination collapses in on itself, and he can barely keep himself from breaking down into tears in front of an uncomfortable Don, who warned Megan not to get involved but now finds himself a part of this whether he likes it or not. There's a lot to be said about the prevailing attitude towards the Vietnam War as portrayed in Mad Men. It was, of course, a deeply unpopular war for a great multitude of reasons, not least of which was the fact that it was one of the first wars that Americans saw unfolding daily on their television screens. This is not to say that a great many Americans weren't in favor of the war though, or felt that it was an absolute necessity in order to stem the horrors of Communism in the great ideological war of the age. But Arnold's meek acceptance of Don's statement feels entirely warranted. Arnold is finding his own son - seemingly immune from the horrors of the draft that were all too real for so many not getting their end of the "bargain" he mentioned - is now in the firing line and that personal element brings the theoretical nature of a war seen only through a television screen into his own life in a way he can't deny. It is no surprise that Don's first thought is that Arnold can use his own influence to get Mitchell out of a trap he blundered into that most Americans simply wouldn't have recourse to, because that's generally how these things work despite Arnold's claims of the sacrifice required: if you are rich and successful, you don't have to play by the same rules, which gives you the luxury of having options (and opinions!). What about Don? He's never outright said it before, but here he straight up says the war is wrong. Not because it's growing increasingly more visible and vocal how much anti-war sentiment there was in America, but because he was in war and he hates it. We've seen it time and again throughout the series, how much he resists talking about not just the Korean War but war in general. This isn't just a matter of being leery of talking too much and exposing his own past and his stolen identity. Roger Sterling himself has commented on how Don really doesn't talk about war, and Don's own comments regarding even World War II have been very carefully framed about talking up Roger and his generation ("you boys took all the Glory") without actually getting into the merits or otherwise of it. Where Roger talks fondly of his time in service even if he has obvious longstanding trauma from it, Don has no fond memories of his military service beyond stating he volunteered because he wanted to get out of where he was brought up. When Gene (Betty's father, not the namesake son) showed off his war "souvenirs" to Bobby, Don was appalled. He is not a fan of war, the little he saw of it scarred him for life on top of all the other trauma he has faced. In season 1, he talked about Nixon as a war veteran as a plus, but he was talking about that as one of a checklist of conditions for selling a product, that product being Richard Nixon himself. When he lauded napalm as "keeping our boys safe" he was pitching a mindset he knew will appeal to the client whose work he was trying to win. When he attended the conference in Los Angeles with Pete and ssaw the enthusiastic pitching of weapons of war by a company that he thought was working on spaceflight, he was horrified. No, Don openly stating that the war is wrong, while perhaps a little on the nose as a statement made by a character in a television show, is a statement coming from a man who has good reason to be opposed to war. He's also finally in a position socially, historically and personally where he can outright state it without violating his perception as a man of strong moral fiber and good, "Republican" constitution. Nobody would ever claim Don Draper was a hippy, a liberal or a peacenik, and more and more in America at the time it was becoming accepted that being opposed to the Vietnam War was NOT an out-there, crazy, minority view of the population.   Ted arrives home to find his wife Nan sitting up in bed watching television. He steps up and gives her a kiss, asking what she is watching, and her response both verbally and physically immediately tells him something is wrong. He reminds her that he did call to apologize for being late, but she snaps back wearily that she didn't want to have this argument on the phone before he had to fly his plane... but he was SUPPOSED to be having dinner with the family tonight, not flying off to pitch to Ocean Spray. When he testily points out that he simply made a mistake and they can the proper family dinner tomorrow, she mockingly asks if he wants to write down a list of excuses for next week now since none of them will make any difference to disappointing the boys who were expecting their dad to be around. she laments the fact he's spending so much time at work, pointing out that he's doing all this work simply to get back to the same position of power and influence... he already had at CGC. When he insists that he doesn't ENJOY having to do all this work, she sighs that she can't believe they're in a position where he thinks she doesn't want him to enjoy himself, and he grasps perhaps a little belatedly that no she's not simply mad at him for forgetting dinner. Perhaps too quickly, he reminds her Pete Campbell was on the plane too when she points out he enjoys having a young copywriter fly with him. He's sensitive about any suggestion of impropriety with Peggy, of course, because there HAS been impropriety with Peggy! But he really can't deny it when, proving she knows him well, she accuses him of enjoying clashing with Don more than he does clashing with Clients. He wants to win over Don (both in terms of earning his respect as well as "beating" him as a Creative) and that has been driving him for years, as their years-ago encounter at Benihana more than demonstrated to her. No, she's fine with him enjoying those things (well, maybe not enjoying Peggy's attention, but she clearly doesn't think anything is going on) but she just wishes he enjoyed being with her and the boys as well. That he doesn't know how to respond to, because when he raved to Peggy and Pete about this being the Agency he always wanted you can bet that his wife and children didn't even come into the picture at all. The next morning, Don arrives at work and asks Dawn to get him Mr. Campbell as he hands her his briefcase, and winces when she asks if he wants to do it before or after the status meeting, which he had completely forgotten about. He asks when the meeting is, and she informs him it is... right now! She also wants to know if he plans to attend the Chevrolet dinner, and when he asks when that is she tells him... tonight! Jesus Christ, Don. It's not like she's hitting him with this poo poo last second, he will have been informed and probably multiple times of all this and simply ignored it. But when Pete pops down from upstairs and says hello, Don asks to speak with him quickly before the meeting, leading him into his office. Pete's good mood immediately darkens when Don asks if he still has a friend in the Department of Defense - he doesn't, he left for Union Carbide - and if he can still call in favors, immediately assuming something from Don's false past (which Pete often completely forgets about) is coming back to haunt the Agency again. Don, without getting into specifics, lets him know it is about getting a kid a deferment from going to Vietnam. He assumes, correctly, that given Pete's social status he must know plenty of people who are getting out of service (again, the "bargain" Arnold spoke of has always been more of a theoretical concept for the rich and powerful) and indeed he does, but it's all through education or "medical baloney", none of which helps Mitchell. Instead, Pete sarcastically points out that it is Don who should have more pull... after all, he's having a dinner tonight with General Motors, and they're one of the biggest defense contractors in the world. When Don, who hates all the client bullshit side of this business, asks Pete how he would go about broaching the subject, Pete takes some savage satisfaction in pointing out that he wouldn't know, since he's not on Chevy. They gave that role to Ken, and Pete found his own prior influence heavily on the wane... and being Pete, when a chance comes to gain back some influence or earn the gratitude of another Partner he instead revels in pissing on them instead. The impromptu meeting over, Pete leaves and Don follows (quietly pointing out it's not his fault that Pete isn't on Chevy) to have the status meeting... only to bump into first Roger and then Ted and have the meeting basically right there on the floor while a hapless Jim Cutler sits in the conference room wondering what the gently caress they're talking about. What they're talking about it.... well, more that they're screaming! Because, Pete has taken the opportunity to brag about getting to work on Ocean Spray as they join Roger, who immediately points out that might conflict with Sunkist, which makes a horrified Pete ask when the gently caress Sunkist became available and demand to know if a newly arrived Ted knew who in turn can't believe they went after an orange juice company at the same time he was pitching to cranberries. Jim pops his head out to find out what is going on, discovering that somehow two sets of Partners have managed to simultaneously gain the interest of competing juice companies, and Don has already put Roger onto a media strategy for Sunkist without telling anybody. Roger insists the status meeting was the right place to inform them, and Jim notes that both are worth about the same in terms of billings - 3 million each. But it's not simply a matter of size, Ted furious that Don and Roger didn't tell them anything about it and responding to the same accusation re: Ocean Spray by pointing out multiple memos have been sent out about it! Aghast, Pete asks Roger why he thought so many Partners and copywriters were nowhere to be seen recently and Ted complains they've already poured $5000 worth of work into Ocean Spray. Roger making a pitiful effort to note there were expenses on the LA Trip yet, caught out when Cutler simply asks if it was $5000 worth of expenses and Roger stammers that... well... he hasn't looked at his receipts yet. But for Ted, who came home on a high only to have his wife drag him back down to the ground, having his triumphant return to work run headfirst into some Don Draper bullshit is more than he can stand. He roars at Don to read a memo for once and actually be a PART of this Agency, and storms back into his office. Pete walks away in disgust as well, and a rarely subdued Roger posits to Cutler that maybe they're not a conflict? Don, as always acting aloof, shrugs and says they don't have either yet and leaves, and that leaves Roger to come as close as he can to actually apologizing as he insists quietly to Cutler that he really didn't know. Cutler makes his way into Ted's office, where he finds himself on the opposite end of where they were last episode. He stresses that the memos were a bad ideas as the more you send the less get read, tells Ted not to take it personally, insists they'll end up with one juice either way and points out it isn't a matter of "my juice" or "his juice" as Ted insists because they are ALL Ted's juice. But Ted, looking to vent after his experience with Nan, has decided that Don has done this all deliberately as part of some long-running plot to undermine, belittle and sideline Ted within the Agency (and before the merger, the advertising industry). He likens it to being Ginger Roger and getting punched in the face by Fred Astaire instead of being caught. Seeing there is no point in arguing this, Jim simply walks away, leaving Ted lying miserably on his couch, the Agency he always wanted that he thought he'd finally found only the previous night back to being a waking nightmare.   At Don and Megan's building, Mitchell is hanging out in the lobby patiently explaining to Jonesy why he (Mitchell) probably isn't likely to become a football star out of nowhere when he spots two young girls arriving and opens the door for them. Both girls are of course delighted to see such a handsome young man opening the door for them, focused primarily on him rather than Jonesy who likens the girls to two high fashion models. The girls are, of course, Sally Draper and her friend Julie. Oh poo poo. Jonesy introduces Mitchell and Sally to each other, guessing they haven't met before despite living on the 16th and 17th floor respectively. Sally explains to Jonesy that she lost her key but Don and Megan were going to leave one for her, and Jonesy admits this is news to him but that doesn't mean anything. As he looks about for the key in case another doorman left it, Julie grins hungrily at Mitchell and makes small-talk, asking what restaurants are good around here. Mitchell, enjoying the attention (he is a college kid and these are like 14/15-year-old girls, gross) tells them it's mostly old people around here. Sylvia arrives and suddenly Mitchell reverts to a sullen teenager not unlike Sally, grumpy and almost monosyllabic as he complains he was waiting for her to arrive before hailing a cab. He rolls his eyes dramatically at Sally and Julie as he follows his pissed off mother out the door, Jonesy handing over all his keys to Sally and telling her to bring them right back after she's let herself in, before racing after Sylvia and Mitchell to hail a cab for them. Delighted, Julie tells Sally she lives with Mark Lindsay, and Sally of course just grins and points out that she doesn't actually live in this building. They head upstairs with the keys, and I have to wonder whether this was simply a matter of Don forgetting to leave a key for her or if she has either convinced Betty without telling Don to let her stay with her father during the Model UN trip... or simply decided on her own to come over and leave Don and Megan with no choice but to take them in and force Sally to either accept it or suffer the humiliation of coming into the city to drag her back home? That evening, Pete is confused to open the door to his apartment and find his mother and Manolo waiting outside, both dressed to the nines. He reminds Dorothy that he told her he would meet her at La Grenouille. Manolo of course immediately soothes things over, gently clasping Dorothy's hand (they are linked arm in arm) and telling her sweetly that she must let him manage her calendar for her. Choosing not to acknowledge her mistake, Dorothy points out stuffily that she doesn't intend to wait in the hall, so Pete invites her in. When Manolo offers to entertain her while Pete finishes getting read, Pete instead decides to follow up on the idea he found so ludicrous over drinks with Peggy, and explains that he would like his mother to himself this evening. Manolo, ever professional, simply nods and lightly bows, not showing the slightest sign of being upset at suddenly being excluded from dinner at a very, very upscale restaurant. When Dorothy is clearly pained at the thought he won't be there, Pete insists Manolo has plans and the nurse doesn't hesitate to follow along with the lie, assuring Dorothy that he will be there when she wakes up tomorrow morning. He kisses her hand and leaves, Pete watching him go feeling the unpleasant tingle of suspicion over whether the handsome, immaculately dressed gentleman his mother clearly adores might be seeking something more than just being her nurse. He's troubled further when he asks if she would like a drink and she responds with obvious pleasure and pride that Manolo prefers her not to drink because he likes her "sharp". Fetching his shirt, Pete broaches the uncomfortable subject, offering that he hopes she hasn't mistaken Manolo's attention for affection, and his mother proves she is indeed sharp today as she grunts that she SUPPOSES she could pretend that is a tone of concern in his voice as opposed to condescension. So Pete gets blunt... has Manolo taken advantage of her? Her reply simply worries him further, as without explicitly stating that they're having sex, she simply declares with great satisfaction that "Manny" has awakened a part of her that was long dormant.... does Pete really intend to deny her the pleasures of love!?! Of course he's horrified to hear this, as much for the idea of his mother being a sexual being at all as the implication of her nurse having sex with her. He declares that they will have no choice but to let Manolo go, and in a sad reminder that for as sharp as she is her mind IS still slowly going, Dorothy gasps in alarm, asking in all sincerity if he did something? "He's a pervert!" sneers Pete, outraging Dorothy who get to her feet and scowls at him that she should have known he wouldn't understand, because he was a sour little boy and has grown into a sour little man... he was always unlovable. I've often said that while Pete is in many ways a despicable little shithead, he is many ways more pitiable than detestable (though there is a fair share of detesting!). There are obviously causes for the type of person he grew into, and one significant one of those is his mother. She's right that he has grown into a sour little man from a sour little boy, but she makes the claim as if he just came like that, as opposed to being built from the ground up due to the parenting decisions she and his father made in raising him. The fact she calls him unlovable is as much an indictment on her as it is on him, and it has been long established that he has spent most of his life hoping for/seeking love from her that she simply would not give him. Both he and Bud have understood for a very long time that Bud is the favored son, to the point it is all but a joke to them both, which is to put it quite frankly, horrifying. The way his eyes dart away from hers when she calls him unlovable says it all: because of course Pete believes in his heart that she's right, and it doesn't matter whose fault it was initially or how much of his own conscious choices have made him this way, but hearing his own mother say it is just a further body blow to his ego. The great tragedy of all this, of course, is that we still don't really know if this "affair" is all in Dorothy's head or not. It's possible that she and Manolo are having an affair, but just as likely that Pete - for as condescendingly as he put it - was right that she has mistaken attention for affection. Manolo is clearly good for Dorothy, she is 1000 times better mentally and seemingly physically since Pete employed him, and one wonders how badly firing Manolo will affect both Dorothy and Pete himself in the long run. Declaring that she has lost her appetite, she moves to leave and Pete - playing up that unlovable, sour side of him she pointed out - sneers that she'll get lost trying to get home alone. On that she proudly declares her confidence, noting that she has money for the cab and her address on a piece of paper to show the driver... written in Manolo's "elegant" handwriting. She leaves, her head held high, devastated by Pete's decision but meaning to maintain her dignity. Pete is left cursing that he brought up the subject at all but knowing he couldn't in good conscience not, and all their evenings are ruined. Not to mention, you know, Manolo is about to be out of a job!  
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Mar 29, 2022 09:58
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Another dinner is still going ahead though. It's all laughter and drinks at the Chevy dinner, as they reach the desert phase and Cutler is sure to order two of everything and Roger just as sure to order another round. One of the Chevy execs talking longingly of growing up in Cleveland and fishing with his father on Lake Erie, admitting the water is too dirty now to do so. Cutler and Ted suggest going to Florida and trying to catch Marlin, maybe write their own Hemingway story, and they all cackle with laughter when Roger - who in his youth like so many others once had quasi-dreams of being the next Hemingway - quips he'll have to blow his brains out if he doesn't catch anything. Don follows up on the exec - Ross - and his fishing story though, asking where he takes his son fishing? Ross admits that he only had two girls and they could never stay quiet on the boat... but his grandson is just like him, and he takes great pleasure in telling them about fishing with him the previous summer in Muskoka. He has an ulterior motive for bringing this up though, helped when Cutler helpfully throws in that Ross' grandson is studying at Antioch and Ross jokes about how he hopes he'll change his mind about studying the Classics. Seeing the opening, Don beams and nods but points out that he has a couple of years before he has to start making serious decisions at least - Roger helpfully offers that he'll have a guaranteed job with SC&P if Chevy keeps them on as an Agency! - explaining that the kid of a friend of his is at that decision making point himself... he's 1-A, can you imagine!?! His "subtle" jab takes immediate effect, as the entire table falls silent. They sit uncomfortably for a moment before Ted, horrified, points out that this is just one of those problems you can't do anything about. Don though is committed, noting he has two sons of his own and is just glad they're too young to be affected, before noting that he has heard people are "doing things". The other Chevy exec, who had responded earlier by mentioning he didn't like to think about things like this, immediately is giving Don his full attention, but not in a good way. He growls darkly that he's aware of that kind of thing going on and is revolted by it, and Don immediately knows his clumsy effort is not going to bear any fruit. The table returns to a deeply uncomfortable silence, Roger's effort falling mostly flat when he jokes that the war will be over this time next year and they can take Brendan out to dinner and let him read the menu in Latin. Desperate, Cutler asks Ted if he fishes, and Ted finally wins the table back by joking that his only hobby is coming up with new names for the XP. The tension broken, the laughter and good times return, Don simply sipping at his drink with a careful smile pressed onto his face, Ted glowering at him for just upsetting the most prestigious, valuable AND powerful clients THEIR Agency are likely to ever get. In the Draper Apartment, Sally and Julie sit up in bed stifling giggles as they play a VERY teenage girl game, alternating writing things they like about Mitchell (oh dear, oh no oh dear) on a piece of paper and folding it up so each can't see what the other has written. When they've filled the list, they unfold the paper to see what the other has said, Julie delighted and scandalized that Sally put front and center how much she likes his rear end! As they giggle over the other things listed - his smile, his shoulders, his red shirt even! - they hear the door opening and quickly switch off the light and dive under the covers. Whether she initially knew they were coming over or not, Megan has of course accepted them both into the house, but warns them that they have to go sleep now, and if they make enough noise that they need to be visited and scolded again... it won't be Megan coming in, playing off the hope that they find Don a more dominating/authoritative/scary figure. "Good night, Mrs. Draper," offers Julie sweetly, explaining to Sally after Megan leaves that she calls her that BECAUSE she knows Megan clearly hates it! They lie quietly for a moment, and then Julie yearningly observes that Mitchell is only one floor below them RIGHT now, suddenly gasping that Sally should sneak down there and kiss him! "He talked to you," Sally points out, but allows herself to dream a little as Julie sighs longingly that she wished she lived here. Alone and wishing she DIDN'T live there is Peggy Olson, who slips out of her bedroom at night with a flashlight to explore a sound she heard. As she suspected, the rat she saw earlier has triggered the trap she left for it... but not in a clean kill way she was hoping for. Instead she uses the flashlight to follow a trail of blood to under the couch, horrified and panicked about what to do now, hearing it squeaking and the sound of the trap it is still caught in. She doesn't know what to do, worried it might be lively enough to lunge at her but also fearing it is in agonizing pain and knowing she doesn't want to have to finish it off. So what does she do? She calls Stan! Woken in the middle of the night by the ringing phone, a sleepy Stan is confused as to why she is calling him, even more confused when she insist he come over to deal with the rat. He reminds her he to told her to get traps, and when she explains it is IN a trap and she is too scared to lift the couch and see it flipping around in pain, he points out slowly and deliberately that he is NOT her boyfriend... coming over and killing a rat for her is not in the job description of being a friend and work-colleague. "Maybe I'll make it worth your while if you come over..." she offers after a moment, in a painfully transparent and frankly hilarious attempt to sound seductive that isn't fooling either of them. "No you won't," he grunts, telling her goodnight. A little disappointed at how quickly he rejected the idea, especially given he tried to bang her fairly recently (albeit while high on speed), she asks if he's REALLY not interested, and when he whispers back,"No" she asks him why he's using his sexy voice then!?! By way of answer we get the first wider shot of the bed he's lying in, and there is of course a woman sleeping in the bed beside him - he isn't whispering to be sex (though now he knows she thinks he sounds sexy!) but so as not to wake her. He more loudly tells her that Tuesday will be fine, and belatedly she grasps that he's with someone... and hilariously in her desperation happily insists he can bring her with him if he wants! "It'll be dead by morning," he groans and hangs up on her, going back to bed. Back in her apartment, Peggy is left still manless and unsure what to do, gently creeping back towards her bedroom and giving a start and racing faster when she hears the dying rat squeak in pain again from beneath the couch. It was a darkly comedic scene, and kind of hilarious that Peggy knows Stan well enough to have been able to make an "offer" like that when we all know she wouldn't have followed through with it. It's also a sign of Stan's own relative growth as a person that he's also perfectly aware that Peggy isn't going to give it up to a guy just for killing a rat... though how much of that is down to the fact he obviously had sex earlier that evening is probably up for debate. More importantly than all of that though... why the hell does Stan have a full-sized poster of Moshe Dayan over his bed!?!   The next morning, Sally sits at the kitchen counter with Julie going over what they need to know for the Model UN, but Julie seems distracted and uninterested in facts about Eleanor Roosevelt. She admits that she didn't sleep and complains that the floor of Sally's room smells like pee, which of course Sally disputes, assuring Julie herself that she smells like Prell when she becomes concerned the "pee" smell rubbed off on her. Megan steps into the kitchen and is shocked to see Sally is still in her pajamas, reminding her that she has to get to the studio which means the two girls need to be ready to go as soon as possible. Sally, not quite as sullenly as she would with her mother, but still snarkily, points out that she let the guest shower first. When Megan asks her to take out the trash as she races around trying to get ready, Sally of course in typical teenage fashion sneers that she can't do that now because she has to have the shower that Megan just insisted she have! With a sigh, Megan bites her tongue, this is incredibly annoying but it's also only temporary. Julie, who probably acts much the same way with her own mother, is of course all sweetness and light as she tells "Mrs. Draper" that she'll be happy to take out the trash. She admits she would love to visit the studio sometime and also queries if the phone-call Megan needs to make it to her agent, giving Megan attention and showing interest which of course immediately raises her standing in Megan's eyes. But as Megan picks up the phone to make the call and Julie slips out the back with the trash, the troubling thought remains just why Julie was so keen to take that trash out? Especially given what she had to say about Mitchell only living a floor below the night before. Don steps into his office, asking Dawn to get him some coffee. But he doesn't even have time to sit down before Ted bursts into the office and demands to know what he was up to last night? Dawn comes in over the intercom asking,"Mr. Draper?", checking that there isn't an issue given Ted burst in unannounced, but he tells her things are fine. He, of course, has no idea what Ted is upset about, because equally of course it never occurred to him that Ted (and the other Partners!) might be upset at him for striking a sour note at the dinner with Chevy the night before. Ted accuses him of trying to poison his relationship with the client, reminding him angrily that it was Don himself who insisted he would stay out of the Creative side of Chevy until around 1970 when it was time to actually start really pushing/producing the work on the finished product. Don, completely blind to any hypocrisy in this statement, reminds Ted that Chevy is THEIR relationship and then offers a line that is so ironic I'm shocked the world didn't momentarily grind to a halt, telling Ted that "Not everything is about you!" But if Don wants to claim Chevy as "theirs" then Ted warns him he better start getting better at maintaining that relationship, pointing out that he knows as well as anybody - even if neither of them are Account Men - that you NEVER let a sour note or an awkward moment intrude on any part of a client dinner. He's beside himself when Don states he simply wanted to take Chevy's temperature on the War, asking why the hell you would EVER want to do that? Especially with Chevy/General Motors! Not liking being called out like this, especially because part of him knows Ted is right, Don complains he would act the same way if it was his kid. "But it's NOT your kid!" yells Ted, before pausing for a moment as a distinct possibility occurs to him.... is it Don's kid!?! No, insists Don, irritated himself at the suggestion he might have a bastard child somewhere he is trying to get out of the war, he is a friend's kid. Ted offers a line that gets right to the heart of Don, an observation that is as astute as it is cruel: he can only assume this carries extra significance for Don because he probably doesn't have many friends. Seemingly not grasping the insult, Don admits this is important to him, and Ted offers him a point of view he never once remotely considered: why didn't he come to Ted? The perplexes Don, after all who else would have the kind of clout that GM has? Because of course he thought to go to the top first (after the only existing "in" he had, Pete, turned out to be fruitless). But Ted is a pilot, and the guy who taught him to fly is a Brigadier General in the Air National Guard... he might be able to pull some favors and help make sure Mitchell's call-up happens there, effectively ensuring he wouldn't see any actual combat (the Air National Guard WAS involved in Vietnam, but to a far lesser degree than other elements of the Military, and most reservists were never called up). Don can't believe it... he's do that? "I'd consider it," Ted agrees, but with one condition: Don has to stop the war. Perplexed and irritated, assuming that Ted is loving with him, he points out that obviously he can't stop the war. But Ted is being serious, he wants Don to stop the war... on him. Bewildered, Don listens as Ted vents his own laundry list of complaints about Don's active efforts to undermine him, because of course... they largely don't exist. This isn't to say that Don hasn't felt in competition with Ted, that he hasn't been paranoid in the past himself about Ted trying to get one over on him (that Bobby Kennedy prank must still rankle)... but also, Don tends to be focused on himself over everything else. So much of the actions that Ted has interpreted as Don actively undermining him he doesn't grasp was actually him just being collateral damage from a Don Draper who was bothered about something entirely unrelated. So to Don, this is a bargain beyond all bargains. To help his friend (and his mistress) save their son from being shipped off to an unjust war and probably death, all he has to do is agree to stop doing something he doesn't think he was actually doing in the first place! He'll even mean it in all sincerity when he shakes Ted's hand and promises this is the start of a new mutually respectful partnership of equals... until the next time something else catches his attention and he focuses on that while utterly unaware of or indifferent to the damage it might be having on those around him, including Ted. So he agrees to drop Sunkist, to chase Ocean Spray, to work together with Ted rather than against him. Stepping around his desk, he extends his hand he and Ted shake, with Ted reminding him this is not a handshake of gratitude but a binding contract. This is a moment of triumph for Ted, a chance to put this part of the troubled birth of the merged Agency behind them and get back to being that Agency he wants to be part of. For Don? It's him getting something he needs at a cost he considers negligible and will probably forget as and when something else comes up that he recklessly throws all his focus into.   Ted's parting advice is that Don should write Mitchell's letter for him, explaining how it has been his childhood dream to be a pilot, and get him to sign it. He'll also need to get a haircut, but Ted promises he is going to make the call to his friend right now, and a relieved Don sees him out of the office and asks Dawn to get him Dr. Rosen on the phone, eager to share the good news. But Dr. Rosen isn't at the hospital, he's at home today, so Don calls the number and it is an exhausted and miserable Sylvia who answers, her suspicions flaring when she realizes it is Don, angry that he would intrude into her home again. But he calmly explains he is trying to reach Arnold, that the hospital said he could be reached here, and he's calling about Mitchell. Her fear rises again, she's been living it since learning Mitchell was 1-A, but instead what Don gives her is horrible, barely believable... hope. Because when hope is offered like this, the fear is that it comes with a cost or is somehow too good to be true. Don has a friend with a friend in the Air National Guard and might be able to get Mitchell a spot there, effectively saving his life and keeping him safe and - to be frank - probably mostly at home doing nothing. A wave of relief crashes over her, her mouth fighting to smile even as doubt warns her that something MUST be wrong, surely there can't have been a last second reprieve for her son? "Did you... fix this?" she asks in wonder, fighting back tears, and Don explains he'll need to sign the letter and get the haircut, and Arnold and her will need to make sure he follows through because the introduction will only take him so far. "Oh he'll follow though!" she insists, prepared to drag him physically through the entire process if it will save his life. Tears roll down her cheek and she shakes her head, unable to really believe it but starting to come around to the idea that oh my God... it's possible, her son is saved. Careful to keep from being too overenthusiastic, wanting to make it as clear as possible that this is just the best possible chance as opposed to a dead certainty, he points out they'll need to act fast, perhaps remembering Arnold noting Mitchell could potentially be called up at any moment. It turns out Arnie and Mitchell are both out of town, Arnold took them upstate to see an old army friend of his in case he could do anything, though it is clear from her demeanor before she answered her phone and the reaction to Don's news that none of them thought it likely this would bear fruit. But she promises that she'll send them up to Don's apartment tonight to follow up, and bursts into tears, sobbing and blowing her nose as a concerned Don quietly whispers to her to please stop crying. She admits she already feels better but will feel better when she knows it is done, and then a dangerous moment happens. "....Don," she says after a moment's pause, and this is the moment Don should end the call, because part of him knows what is about to happen. Instead, he asks her,"Yes?" and she begins to weepingly talk about how grateful she is to him for doing this, especially after how things ended between them. She knows he isn't doing this just because he has children too, and explains that she wants him to know she ended things the way she did because she was so frustrated with him. "I do now," he whispers, every extra moment on the phone, every word said a warning klaxon to both that they need to END THIS CALL RIGHT NOW. "I didn't want you to fall in love," she tells him, and of course that causes Don to ask her if she didn't feel anything herself? He lights up a cigarette as she takes a seat and admits of course she felt something, but she doesn't want to go through this again... which in some horrible way is her basically saying,"We're going to do this again." "You were good to me, better than I was to you," she tells him, which is a lie, or at the very least a fundamental misunderstanding of their relationship even if she, of course, carries blame for it too. Don simply listens, the entire tenor of the conversation now utterly changed, moving from Mitchell and her gratitude to the two of them talking about themselves... and more importantly, reminding each other of the affair that both had made relatively successful efforts to move on from. This can NOT have a good ending. Upstairs from Don's office, Pete is pacing in his as he waits for somebody to call on him. Indeed he does, Bob Benson strolling happily into his boss' office asking cheerfully if they're going to lunch or not, only for a seething Pete to snap at him to get inside and close the door. Immediately realizing something is very, very wrong, Bob does as he is told, though even now that smile he clearly thinks of as endearing doesn't quite fall from his face. He asks if the issue is around Sunkist's clash with Ocean Spray, starting to talk about the research he has done into this subject only for Pete to cut him off to accuse him of sending him a rapist instead of a nurse! Surprisingly, Bob's response to this wild accusation - as well as Pete's angry reminder that he never even told Bob his mother needed a nurse - is to for the first time actually raise his voice and tell one of his superiors what to do. "Calm down, sit down!" he orders, pointing at the chair, and a surprised Pete actually does as he's told, intrigued despite himself at what Bob could possibly say in his defense. The anger drains out of him as Bob moves to the drinks trolley to prep him a drink, and he sighs that his mother has the mind of a child and Manolo took advantage of her. Bob though, now that the immediate shock of the accusation is over, has that smile right back in place once more, and notes that he assumes it was Dorothy who told Pete this story... and that's all the proof he probably needs that it didn't happen. That's... a super hosed up thing to say! But Bob calmly explains that he doesn't think Manolo's interests "turn that way", a euphemism that Pete immediately understands as meaning he is gay. That however doesn't relieve him in the slightest, if anything it makes him more suspicious as he claims that this simply means Manolo is a "degenerate" and thus capable of anything. How that makes any sense is beyond me, but Pete's angry and frankly in spite of his oddly progressive nature in some respects as bigoted about homosexuality as most were at this period in history. Bob hands him his drink, with one for himself too, asking him to tell him EXACTLY what Dorothy said. Pete doesn't want to say, he doesn't even want to think about it. But after knocking back his drink, he agrees with Bob smilingly asking if he feels better now. Bob then tries another tack... does his mother seem happy? Pete admits that she did, and Bob knocks back his own drink, takes a breath and then with that big fixed grin asks if it is really that impossible to imagine? That if somebody took care of you, if they would do anything for you, if your well-being was their only thought.... is it impossible to believe you wouldn't start to feel something for them? Looking deep into Pete's eyes, as Pete starts to get an uncomfortable feeling about EXACTLY what is being said, Bob's beaming smile suddenly takes on a whole new context as he asks if it really matters who it is if the love is true... and makes a point of letting his knee press against Pete's. Oh [i]shiiiiiiiiit[i]. For a long, long moment Pete sits in silence, absorbing this. Then his facial expression changes, he grasps the significance of what is happening, of what this pressed knee means. Unloved by his mother, kicked out (deservedly!) by his wife, living alone, feeling professionally underappreciated, seeing the woman he once had a thing with now enamored with another, more successful man... Pete might almost be tempted even though he is clearly absolutely heterosexual, because people crave love. So it is, in another example of the kind of deliberate double-think that permeated so much of society of the time, Pete softens only to the point of telling Bob to inform Manolo he will be let go with a month's pay... and to tell him that "it's disgusting". But he doesn't accuse Bob himself, he doesn't fire him, he simply chooses to... pretend this didn't happen, that he doesn't understand what Bob just did. In almost a parallel to Don discovering(confirming, really) Sal was gay and simply pretending it never happened, Pete has decided that he simply just won't let this fact sit anywhere in his conscious memory. For a moment Bob's face fills with sadness, and then of course the smile is back in full force, agreeing enthusiastically with his boss and striding confidently out of the room. It is only with his back turned to Pete that he lets the smile fade, the concern fill his eyes, knowing that he just took a risk and exposed himself, and now his future is uncertain, and whether Pete acknowledges it or not this will continue to be the elephant in the room between them and their working relationship.   I gotta be honest... this caught me off-guard. I mentioned in the last write-up about the intriguing possibilities afforded by Bob being gay, but only because Ginsberg threw out that,"Are you a homo?" line that Bob just laughed off, and it would have been entirely off my radar if that line hadn't been there. It certainly throws much of what he did in the earlier episodes into a new context, what I took for a brown-noser trying to kiss his rear end on the way up to the top now appears far more likely to have been a gay man desperately trying to fit in and be accepted, knowing the dangers to his career and even himself if he should be exposed. Bob is not the sometimes clumsily written Sal Romano, whose homosexuality was clear to the viewer from day one because it really wasn't subtle at all. His line about seeking to escape the confines of his family business have a clear symbolic relevance: this is a guy who wanted out of the closet, even if it put him into a somewhat larger closet. Why does he spend so much time on the Creative Floor? Perhaps (and this is arguable) because he sees in them the probability of a more accepting, friendly and open-minded group of people? When he expressed his admiration for the way Pete operated, it at first seemed like he was kissing the rear end of a guy he knew would like his ego stroked, and then it appeared possible that admiration was genuine. Now? Now it appears that somehow, in the same baffling way Peggy Olson once more, he found Pete Campbell an attractive proposition. Does Joan know? She's no fool, and I'm assuming part of the reason we saw Bob involved in her personal life is because he is one of those rare men in her life who isn't always constantly trying to gently caress her? In any case, Bob has quickly shifted from a character I enjoyed not liking (James Wolk does a great job with his always too large smiles) to even before now somebody I was gaining a deeper interest in. This added wrinkle just makes him all the more intriguing. In the cab on the way to the Model UN, Sally is running through her notes while Julie appears indifferent. Sally complains that Julie isn't helping and doesn't seem to know anything, and when Julie just shrugs and says,"So what?" Sally teases her that the boys will think she's dumb. "Don't tell me how to get boys," smirks Julie, and Sally reminds her that she isn't that much more experienced than her, Julie's only gone to second base twice! "That's a lot more than you," grins Julie, telling her that she better know what to do when Mitchell wants to go ALLLLLL the way with her (he's 19). Sally points out that Mitchell doesn't even know she's alive, and is confused when Julie gleefully tells her she took care of that... and then horrified when Julie reveals that when she volunteered to take out the crash, she actually took their notes about what they liked about Mitchell, signed Sally's name to it and slipped it under the Rosens' back door! ! !! Sally is, of course, utterly mortified. The humiliation! The betrayal! She punches her friend angrily in the shoulder who actually complains! Sally is horrified, now she can never go back to that building, just seeing him again would make her die of embarrassment. Julie though is beaming, promising that Sally will thank her for it, childishly seeming to believe that the 19-year-old boy will read a girly note about liking Mitchell's butt and shoulders and immediately think,"Yes. Yes I will have sex with this child." Back at the building, Jonesy is arriving for his shift and lambasting the other doorman for stripping out of his uniform jacket while still at his post. The other doorman just rolls his eyes and walks away as Jonesy takes his pride of place, and Jonesy is even more mortified and complains openly to a returning Sally that the other doorman didn't greet her on his way out! Sally doesn't care about that though, all she cares about is somehow getting up to that apartment and retrieving that humiliating list before Mitchell can see it. She's abandoned the Model UN and Julie both to get back, and spins a bullshit story now to Jonesy about leaving something behind and needing her key. "You mean you lost it already?" chuckles Jonesy, still seemingly believing her story about forgetting her key from the other day. But he takes pity on her, passing her his ring of keys as he did the other day and telling her to get back as soon as possible. As she quickly races for the elevator, she passes an elderly resident and her nurse coming the other way (not Dorothy and Manolo), and Jonesy proves to have a limited but charming repertoire, reusing his "two high fashion models!" line for the two that he used on Sally and Julie. Sally rides up in the lift and racing to the back door of the Rosens. She pauses and presses her ear against the door, hearing nothing. She light knocks, and there is no answer. Carefully she unlocks the door, looking to the floor and alarmed to find the letter slid under the door is already gone. Gently she creeps her way in, careful to make no noise, spotting the note with Mitchell's name on it sitting on the kitchen counter. Relieved, she walks over to retrieve it, and then hears a noise. Turning, she looks and finds herself staring straight down the corridor into the maid's bedroom.... and her half-naked father on top of a half naked Sylvia Rosen, kissing passionately. The keys drop from her hands in shock, the noise causing Don and Sylvia's heads to twist in their own shock to the source, seeing absolutely the last thing they expected: Don's teenage daughter standing in the kitchen of Sylvia's home, catching them in flagrante delicto. For a moment they are frozen in time, the horror freezing all thoughts and words... and then Sally recovers, snatching the keys up from the ground and racing out of the kitchen, Mitchell's letter the last thing on her mind and utterly laughable as a concern considering what she just saw. "S....Sally!" gasps Don, leaping to his feet and struggling to get his clothes back on, Sylvia behind him clutching at her mouth and starting to hyperventilate as the panic sets in. Reality has hit them hard, after somehow escaping a months long affair directly under the noses of their respective spouses without consequence, she allowed high emotions to let her slip back into an old habit. Perhaps she thought,"Just one last time?" even though there is never ever just one LAST time, and in doing so she has put everything that she thought she had just secured back into risk. Don doesn't even think about her though, leaving her behind to muffle her panicked terror and slam her first against the mattress as he chases his daughter. He slips out the back door, left with an unclear choice: did she race upstairs to his apartment? Downstairs to the lobby? How did she get in? Why she did have the keys? He tries his apartment first, calling out for her, angry demand in his voice as if he has any moral authority to impose on her. Not finding her, he races to the elevator, tucking in his shirt to get some semblance of tidiness back... and in this moment stuck in the elevator waiting to reach the lobby, the enormity finally hits him: he was caught. He sinks his head into his hands, knowing that there is no escaping this, no willing the genie back into the bottle. His own daughter caught him cheating on his wife, and she's old enough to know exactly what that means, especially given all she has probably heard badmouthing him from Betty. Arriving at the lobby, he steps out and hurriedly asks a surprised Jonsey if Sally came through, having to bear through Jonesy's exclamation that he didn't know he was home today. He did see Sally, she returned the keys and just hopped into a cab, and he offers to go get her for him. But now that Sally is perhaps in reach (if the cab hasn't miraculously cleared traffic), Don realizes... what CAN he say? How do you explain what just happened? How do you sell it? Even for a supposedly visionary Creative like this, the options are non-existent. He was caught. There is no smoothing this over or offering an alternative view: he was banging his downstairs neighbor. So, barely hearing Jonesy, he ignores him saying anything that might be wrong is his fault because he gave Sally his keys. Instead Don simply walks out of the lobby out onto the street, and just stands there outside the building, not knowing where to go, what to do, and what happens next. If he has even a single thought for Sylvia, he gives no sign.   Pete Campbell arrives home to his little apartment, a far cry from its original intention as a place to cheat on his wife. He pours himself raisin bran... or would, but he's all out. There is nobody to do his shopping for him, to clean up, to look after him, to love him. He is all alone, and though he has admirers (or one, at least) they're of a type he has no interest in. No, Pete Campbell is alone, and it's almost entirely his own fault for being so. Now he's also made his mother be alone too. What about Peggy Olson? Abe is gone from her life, her "offer" to Stan was one they both knew she wouldn't follow through on, but she was clearly missing the presence of a man in her life. Like Pete, she comes home to a home without another person to share it with. Nobody to perform the unpleasant tasks she once relied on them to do, like killing or disposing of a rat. But unlike Pete.... Peggy is somebody who finds solutions. She doesn't have a man right now? There was nobody to kill the rat for her? What could this poor young woman do all by herself, after a lifetime of being taught that men were needed to handle specific functions for her? She got herself a cat!  Ted returns to a full home, his wife asleep on the bed while his kids sit on the edge of the bed and on the floor watching television. They're delighted to spot their dad, and with a loving smile he shushes them so they don't wake their mother, then offers his back to one and gives him a piggyback as he leads them out of the room. Ted and Nan have had their problems, but they love each other, and Ted WANTS to be a better person... and unlike Don, he puts more effort into not only that but also acknowledging his own very real faults and trying to change them. Maybe things won't work out between he and Nan, maybe they will... but it won't be for a lack of trying. Finally, Don returns home as well. He's spend the afternoon and the early evening drinking in a bar until he could put it off no longer... perhaps the fear of what was being said and done in his absence was worse than the fear of it happening while he was there. So he staggers out of the elevator and to the door, barely able to get the key in the lock and turn it. He steps through the door and the,"Hello?" from Megan is bright and cheerful, confusing him further... has nothing happened? Straightening himself out as best as he can he steps into the living room and is surprised to find Sally sitting with Julie at the table with Megan, who beams happily up at him and then stands to give him a kiss before fetching him a plate. Sally glares at her father but says nothing, and he stares back in concern before Megan suddenly recoils from his kiss, giving a half-appreciative, half-stern,"Wow!" reaction to the strong smell of alcohol on him. "Client meeting... lunch," he manages to get out, clearly struggling to even stand straight. Accommodating, non-judgemental, Megan tells him to take a seat, insisting he needs food in him when he tries to stammer out that he plans to lie down. Julie offers to cut him a piece of meatloaf which he eventually declines, and then the doorbell rings and Megan heads off to answer the door, while Don can't take his eyes off of Sally who is adamantly NOT looking at him, simply staring miserably down at her plate. His attention is drawn away though when he hears Megan call out that it's Arnold and Mitchell at the door. Horrified at the thought of seeing the husband and son of the woman she saw having sex with her father, Sally mumbles that she doesn't feel well and tries to leave the table, but Julie hauls her back, assuming that she's just nervous about seeing Mitchell. Mitchell himself is far from the cocky form he demonstrated with his mother in the lobby the other day. His head is down, his shoulders slumped, but when Arnold - apologizing for interrupting dinner - nudges him, he looks up and his eyes are filled with genuine gratitude as he extends his hand and offers his sincere thanks to MR. DRAPER (and he doesn't say this because he thinks Don dislikes it, he's showing respect) for essentially saving his rear end. "We'll see if it works," Don manages to mutter as he returns the handshake, a far cry from one they had on their first meeting. Megan has no idea what is going on, but when she learns that Don spoke to somebody on Mitchell's behalf she's enraptured with her perfect husband, while Arnold himself offers his own deepest gratitude to his great friend Don Draper for being there for them, letting them know that Sylvia is grateful too but so overwhelmed she couldn't come up. Even Don Draper, particularly after this afternoon, can't help but be wracked by guilt to be lauded by the husband of the woman he is cheating on his own wife with. To have Megan also staring up at him with adulation, the son of the woman he is sleeping with overwhelmed with gratitude and respect for him, and knowing his own daughter is fully aware of the deep betrayal he has committed on all three... well you'd have to be a monster not to feel bad. Arnold gratefully declines Megan's kind offer that they join them for dinner, not wanting to impose on these good and noble people any longer. They leave, and Megan kisses her husband on the cheek, gushing that he is the sweetest man... and Sally simply can't take it any longer. "YOU MAKE ME SICK!" she screams at Don, and vaults from the table, racing to her room past a stunned Megan and a miserable Don. Don roars at her to come back but of course she ignores him, and a worried Megan says she will go and talk to her. That is the last thing Don wants, of course, and he insists he will deal with it. He strides off towards Sally's room, while a confused Megan turns back to Julie and gets an explanation from the well-meaning but uninformed girl that she can at least make sense of: Sally has a crush on Mitchell! At Sally's door, Don stops and knocks, trying a softer tone of voice before trying to open the door and finding it locked. He demands she open it and she snaps back at him from her bed that she won't, and that he doesn't get to talk to her anymore. Her mind will have been racing all afternoon, and hit its breaking point watching Don's own victims lauding him for his generosity and sweetness. For perhaps the first time since the divorce, she may see Betty's point of view regarding the father that she has kept on a pedestal all this time. Controlling his temper with an effort, caught between his desire to fix this problem, his guilt, and his sheer self-belief that he can talk anybody into anything if he can just get into a room with them, he asks her to open the door because he needs to talk to her. He is still her father, in spite of all this, and years of conditioning can be hard to break, so Sally does stand and slowly approach the door, though she simply stops and leans against it once she reaches it, not quite ready to open it yet. It's close enough for Don, who takes a moment to gather his thoughts, and then delivers perhaps the most important pitch of his life... and it's a stinker. Because what does he do, this son of a bitch? He gaslights her. "I know you think you saw something," he tells his daughter,"I was... comforting Mrs. Rosen. She was very upset. It's very... complicated." Sally weeps quietly into the palm of her hand, because she isn't stupid and she isn't buying this bullshit. Her father has been exposed as the weakling, coward and unfaithful piece of poo poo that he is, and she cries as much for her now forever ruined idealized worship of her father as for the situation itself. Because Sally is also old enough to know that there is perhaps more to be lost than gained from calling out her father on this crap. And so when he softly asks if she can hear him, she offers a quiet and miserable little,"Yes," and an even sadder,"Okay" when he asks if she heard what he said. Don takes this in and decides it is enough, sensing perhaps that even if she is clearly miserable he has done the "important" thing and prevented her from doing anything drastic. So he slowly staggers away up the corridor, leaving her behind to flop into the bed, feeling utterly dejected and adrift at sea. The man who was the lodestone of her life has been shown for what he truly is, and his reaction has only reinforced her sense of his moral fortitude. He is not an inspiration. He is not a role model. He is not a good man. Sally Draper has learned something that will change her life forever. She has seen her father through new eyes, seen that there is more to Betty's often seemingly deranged critiques of her father than she thought. Don himself knows he has lost something truly precious today as well, something he can never regain. Despite having staved off further exposure, he doesn't return to his loving wife eating dinner at the table with Sally's friend. Instead he staggers to his bedroom, stopping to look back up at the corridor, knowing a truth about himself that I felt at the start of this season, that Sally now knows, and that he has long feared about himself. https://thumbs.gfycat.com/DimwittedEdibleAyeaye-mobile.mp4 Don Draper is a piece of poo poo. Episode Index
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Mar 29, 2022 09:59
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Mar 29, 2022 11:16
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Holy poo poo, utter perfection 
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Mar 29, 2022 11:47
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will smith should slap don draper next!!!
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Mar 29, 2022 13:58
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Jerusalem posted:Bob is not the sometimes clumsily written Sal Romano, whose homosexuality was clear to the viewer from day one because it really wasn't subtle at all. I really like Bob, one of my favorite late-season characters. And this is partly why. I commented way back in the "limit your exposure" episode that there's a kind of interesting parallel between Don and a literally closeted character like Sal. They're both men who've internalized deep shame over secret inner lives. And they're both men who take as a given that society would never accept their true selves. Bob is a more explicitly Draper-esque take on the idea: he's a handsome cipher, who presents himself as totally unflappable and is extremely reluctant to reveal anything about himself to anyone. And per Jerusalem's point, he's way more adept at being secretive than Sal ever was. His plastic can-do attitude honestly reminds me a lot of the way fur salesman Don behaved in the 50's. And, of course, Pete is central in "outing" both of them: Don through his childhood photos, and Bob through this interaction. This plays out interestingly in the remaining episodes this season.
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Mar 29, 2022 20:23
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gently caress this episode is one of my favorites. I can’t imagine another show pulling off the Sally finding out moment as well as Mad Men does, at all, it feels like a cheap shot in ANY other show entering a SECOND season. Here? gently caress. gently caress! Don and Sally is one of the only healthy relationships in the show, maybe only one that Don has. And he just inadvertently is forced to reckon with the fact he may have completely destroyed it. He isn’t celebrating sally buying his bullshit. He just… is broken. He’s done. For all of Dons awfulness, he loved his kids (and especially Sally), and now she sees him for what he is, and in the VERY worst light possible. And he’s done. He’s broken. Hell, I’d drink too.
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Mar 30, 2022 02:08
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I posted this earlier under a spoiler tag, but there are 14 slash fics about Bob and Pete on Archive of Their Own. :3 One is about Pete having Bob take him to a gay bar for "market research"
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Mar 31, 2022 18:08
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KellHound posted:One is about Pete having Bob take him to a gay bar for "market research" Can you believe this guy?!? Never stops working, am I right?!
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Mar 31, 2022 19:34
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I think I already said this back when you first posted about it but I'm upset that it isn't an actual subplot
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Mar 31, 2022 19:38
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As a follow-up to the exec wanting Dutch to put the hippies in their place in last episode, now we've got the GM guy making it quite clear that he's for the war and against anybody who would question it. (Also, Don misreading that entire table was so weird, given what a smooth operator he typically is.)Xealot posted:Can you believe this guy?!? Never stops working, am I right?! ...our research shows that homosexuals already prefer Admiral televisions.
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Mar 31, 2022 19:50
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JethroMcB posted:(Also, Don misreading that entire table was so weird, given what a smooth operator he typically is.) the line "I don't even like to think about that" could be read as ambiguous as to the attitude towards the war, but the next line "it makes me sick!" makes it abundantly clear and Don quickly shuts up after that. it was a last-ditch effort for him at that point anyway
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Mar 31, 2022 20:33
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JethroMcB posted:...our research shows that homosexuals already prefer Admiral televisions. Admiral Executive: ....maybe they're just trying to be more heterosexual! 
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Apr 1, 2022 05:28
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Lady Radia posted:gently caress this episode is one of my favorites. I can’t imagine another show pulling off the Sally finding out moment as well as Mad Men does, at all, it feels like a cheap shot in ANY other show entering a SECOND season. Here? gently caress. gently caress! In season 6 "The Flood", he explicitly says to Meghan that he does not love his kids or feel much emotion for any of them other than Bobby for about 10 minutes until he mentions Henry's name. It would have been a really strange thing to lie about. He was probably par for the era but "absentee" would definitely describe his attitude to them and why they would end up where they do at the end.
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Apr 1, 2022 10:51
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Bedshaped posted:In season 6 "The Flood", he explicitly says to Meghan that he does not love his kids or feel much emotion for any of them other than Bobby for about 10 minutes until he mentions Henry's name. It would have been a really strange thing to lie about. I would rewatch that episode and consider Don's behavior, etc. As well as the discussion in the thread after the fact. Don's deep love for Sally is super clear, and he struggled to properly find the love in himself for Bobby until that episode, and then hated himself for never feeling it before. One of Don's (few, right now in the show) redeeming qualities is the fact he genuinely cares about his children.
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Apr 1, 2022 17:19
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Bedshaped posted:In season 6 "The Flood", he explicitly says to Meghan that he does not love his kids or feel much emotion for any of them other than Bobby for about 10 minutes until he mentions Henry's name. It would have been a really strange thing to lie about. You wrong bro
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Apr 1, 2022 17:29
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Bedshaped posted:In season 6 "The Flood", he explicitly says to Meghan that he does not love his kids or feel much emotion for any of them other than Bobby for about 10 minutes until he mentions Henry's name. It would have been a really strange thing to lie about. You completely misread that scene. It's pretty much the opposite and he directly says as much to Megan.
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Apr 1, 2022 19:04
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pentyne posted:You completely misread that scene. It's pretty much the opposite and he directly says as much to Megan. Really? I haven't watched that episode in a while (but I will after this  ) and I was literally going by memory and this wiki synopsis:quote:Don tells her that he faked loving his children for their entire lives, but he recently had a true, real moment of affection toward one of them. Bobby is worried that Henry might be killed, but Don consoles him to sleep. Don then walks onto his balcony and watches the city at night. e: Just realized I skipped a lot of pages while catching up reading J's S5 writing and we're far beyond that. breadshaped fucked around with this message at 20:10 on Apr 1, 2022 |
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Apr 1, 2022 19:55
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Jeru, ths poo poo is so good. I swear. It's pulling me through a rewatch at a time when doomscrolling would be a most terrible alternative. S06e08 you've got a Betty Peggy swap during the ambo ride
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Apr 9, 2022 07:18
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Fixed it, thanks for catching that. I've been super-busy the last couple of weeks sorry, really didn't have an evening I could set aside to write up the next episode, will aim to have it done by the end of the weekend.
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Apr 9, 2022 09:26
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Do as you do, my man. I wish any of the long corm writeups for sopranos and madmen had anything like the depth of your stuff. Probably something to do with both me and the wifey being autistic as gently caress, but it can be difficult to actually concentrate on uncomfortable stuff in media that is nevertheless jam packed with details. As such, these writeups really give an enhanced appreciation for the shows
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Apr 9, 2022 10:50
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how dare you have a life and commitments just like any other person op!!BrotherJayne posted:As such, these writeups really give an enhanced appreciation for the shows this
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Apr 9, 2022 13:01
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regarding whether Don loves his kids, I think the text of the show would ultimately support the conclusion that he does, although it's certainly valid to claim that he believes he doesn't. especially given the thesis of the final season, I can't read the scene where Don confesses to Megan about not feeling love for Bobby as anything other than Don believing that the feeling of love is some specific thing that he lacks, and feeling sorry for himself for it. that being said I don't think the claim that "he actually doesn't love his kids" is necessarily incorrect. It kind of depends on what the viewer believes constitutes love for a child. Don was never capable of being the "loving father" or the "guy who loves kids" archetype, like you'd see in the movies where they're providing deep emotional support and affection, but he did care about them as human beings when he was around them, like when he and Betty talk to the kids about the divorce in S3. He's clearly being considerate of their feelings even as he tries to get digs in at Betty's expense. On the other hand, he doesn't even consider them when he asks Rachel to run away with him in s1. Idk, I'm just not comfortable putting someone down who takes Don at his word when he tells Megan he has never felt love for his kids until that moment.
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Apr 9, 2022 13:16
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Don is a person who could never find happiness in anything but the fleeting success of absolutely nailing something at work, and in a lesser show, they'd beat us over the head with how he had kids an extension of this in flashback; how he hoped something new could bring him happiness. But in the show, we're left to infer it, and I have just bananas respect for that. He loves his kids when he's with them, but when he's not, they're just an idea. An old and boring one out of whom he often believes, subconsciously, he's already wrung every neurotransmitter he can get. But then they do something to remind him of himself or somebody he loves or he sees that they need help, and they become interesting again. It's not that he doesn't love his kids. It's that he's bored by them. His speech about how a product's newness is a moment of happiness people chase in the absence of actual fulfillment is projection. He's a traumatized man whose discontentment is his primary drive. It's what makes him interesting and conversely, it's what makes him so utterly boring and typical, and aspirational to people who are also boring and miserable who chase comfort in the aesthetics of manhood.
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Apr 9, 2022 20:43
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Having now watched the whole saga. Dons character is very similar to Antoine Doinel, but with an even worse childhood.
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Apr 9, 2022 23:06
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I'm not sure if I want to open the "does Betty love her kids" box.
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Apr 10, 2022 04:57
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Gaius Marius posted:Having now watched the whole saga. Dons character is very similar to Antoine Doinel, but with an even worse childhood. hey now. don would NEVER steal a typewriter
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Apr 11, 2022 10:03
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https://thumbs.gfycat.com/AcrobaticDismalCollardlizard-mobile.mp4  
Jerusalem fucked around with this message at 10:44 on Apr 11, 2022 |
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Apr 11, 2022 10:32
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Season 6, Episode 12 - The Quality of Mercy Written by Andre & Maria Jacquemetton, Directed by Phil Abraham Herman "Duck" Phillips posted:I've never seen anything like this before. Megan's alarm clock wakes her to an empty bed. The apartment itself isn't empty though, and she knows where to find her husband. Entering one the kid's rooms (Bobby's perhaps, given the decor), she finds him curled up on the small bed, and settles down on the edge of the mattress, gently shaking him awake. He explains he didn't want to wake her when she tells him she was waiting up for him the previous night, but she's not so much concerned about the late nights as the obvious heavy drinking that has been going alongside them. As gently as possible, she tells him he needs to pull back on the throttle "a little", making sure to call him honey to show this isn't an accusation while at the same time being sure to point out she doesn't know exactly what is going on with him... in other words a plea (or lament) to him to actually tell her. He lies still a moment, then just gives a silent nod. He looks and obviously feels terrible, worn down by the hard lifestyle he is living, and at least recognizes that he even if he doesn't intend to stop he can't pretend or declare everything is fine and expect her to just accept it. But we get a good sign of just how deep down the rabbit-hole he's gone shortly afterwards, as he pours himself juice in the kitchen and then slips a bottle of presumably vodka out of his bag and pours in a(n un)healthy dollop. When Megan calls out in alarm from the bedroom for him to turn off the range after realizing she left the eggs boiling, his first reaction is to hide the booze first... which is... well, that's never a good sign. She enters the kitchen and turns the range off (he never once moved to do so), apologizing for forgetting but noting he looks terrible. Mustering a little of the old Don Draper charm, he smirks that SHE looks terrible, and she can't help but be amused. Stepping up, she gives him a kiss and asks if he'll stay home today for her, and again he gives a silent nod of assent, knowing some battles aren't worth fighting. But the moment she's out of the room again (and perhaps off to work, leaving him home alone), he drinks his juice, and gulps it down long and needily, craving the alcohol and its numbing affects. We don't know how long it has been since Sally caught him and Sylvia in bed together, and clearly Megan hasn't learned the truth... but Don is living with either the Sword of Damocles dangling over his head OR the knowledge that his daughter KNOWS what a piece of poo poo he is and is at best willing to not openly question his bullshit excuse... and it's hard to say what is worse for him. So it is we find Don Draper looking as bad as he did in that year after first starting SCDP, newly divorced from Betty and retreating into alcohol because he couldn't stand that being his own Boss and wallowing in complete Creative and personal freedom still didn't bring him any of the happiness/wholeness he hoped it would. Just like then, the fault lies entirely with himself.   Far from Manhattan but also clearly not happy is Ken Cosgrove. Somehow he has been roped into going bird hunting, presumably something to do with the Chevy Account. His two colleagues are on the lookout, one clearly more enthusiastic than the other about this activity as he insists they can't leave before Kenny has had a chance to murder a bird for the crime of existing. The second Chevy exec complains this'll turn into the Bataan Death March if Kenny doesn't shoot soon, telling him to just pretend a nearby tree is Ralph Nader and shoot it so they can go get a drink. Just then dogs bark and the sound of wings flapping catch both Execs' attention. They raise their guns and spin around... pointing them right at Kenny. "WAIT!" Kenny screams in a panic, but they're solely focused on the bird and one of them - ironically the one who wanted to leave - pulls the trigger.... and Kenny crashes to the ground and lies still. "Oh poo poo!" gasps the offending executive, and we cut to a wide shot of Kenny lying still on the ground before returning to New York.... wait, did Ken Cosgrove just get unceremoniously killed 3 minutes into this episode!?! Don, true to his word to Megan, has stayed home. He has his feet up and is watching not particularly engaging (but sadly effective) television: Richard Nixon's Political Campaign Ad on "Crime". He switches the channel and finds Megan's soap opera is on, with Megan on-screen playing her seductive, possibly evil twin sister who is bitterly taunting her lover for apparently "accidentally" sleeping with her sister. "DON'T YOU DARE IGNORE ME!" she yells.... as a bored Don changes the channel, and if that don't say it all. The phone rings and with a sigh he turns off the television and picks it up, and I presumed it would be a panicked call to say "Holy poo poo Don, Ken's been murdered by Chevy!" but... nope, it's Betty! She seems slightly surprised he is home, saying "your girl" (Dawn) said he was home, but she clearly thought he was probably off somewhere with a mistress or something. Hearing his voice, she says if he's too sick to talk it can wait, but he grunts he can talk.... and sits up straight and gets alert when she tells him it concerns Sally. He feels a sick moment of relief when he learns it is "only" that she has decided not to come over stay with him this weekend either, apparently she hasn't been back since last episode's disastrous events. Don belatedly remembers this is sad news, his daughter doesn't want to see him, but as the alternative was that his lying, cheating, philandering ways were about to be (re)exposed it's understandable (if not to be condoned) why he reacted that way. "That's too bad," is all he offers, and then confuses Betty by noting that she should tell Sally that if she chooses to come over after all, he'll be working all weekend. "Why would I tell her that?" Betty asks, bewildered, and he realizes his misstep. Luckily for him, Betty no longer finds him the most interesting and fascinating person in the world, and has already moved on to her own theories. She suspects it might have been the woman who broke into the house that scared Sally off going back... but perhaps it was because she had a big fight with her friend from the Model UN shortly after the last visit. But this has lead to the reason she isn't coming over this weekend... she wants to go to a Boarding School, and Betty herself is torn between whether she thinks this is a good idea or a bad idea. "I'll pay for it all," Don IMMEDIATELY declares, putting up zero fight, protest or even register of surprise. His lizard brain has immediately gone,"THAT'LL PUT HER OUT OF THE PICTURE!" and he has grasped at it as greedily as he's picked up his now empty bottle of vodka, more interested in his own self-preservation than repaired the tattered remains of his relationship with a daughter who once worshiped the ground he walked on. Betty points out Sally will have to get in first, but admits that Henry's daughter Eleanor went there, and she clearly approves of anything that will make Sally more like Eleanor. She even thinks she'll interview well, admitting that Sally has great manners for everyone BUT Betty herself. She points out that Jackie Kennedy went to the school - Miss Porter's - and when Don chuckles that she means Jacqueline Kennedy ONASSIS she can't help but get a little giggle, joking about what medicine he must be taking before agreeing that Jackie Kennedy married well twice. "So did you," admits Don, making her smile widen, before his lizard brain's relief retreats well enough for him to grasp the significance of Sally's decision. He asks Betty to tell Sally that Megan.... that THEY BOTH will miss her. "Of course," offers Betty, and they end the call, some element of their old chemistry stil evident, even if that one-night-stand (and Don realizing he was the 3rd wheel the morning after) probably burned out whatever last vestiges of an intimate relationship they once had. Now he sits alone in his apartment, only now really considering the fact that one probable key reason his daughter wants to go to Boarding School is so she can avoid seeing him as much as possible for as long as possible for the rest of her childhood.   At SC&P, there is much wailing and gnashing of teeth as Creative and Accounts alike lament the death of Ken Cosgrove. Men tear at their breast, women crumple to the floor, Account Men manfully vow revenge on Chevy, Joan throwing one arm to her forehead and fainting into one of Roger Sterling's outstretched arms as he shakes the fist of the other at the sky and bellows his rage towards an indifferent God. Oh. No, Ted, Peggy, Ginsberg and Mathis are actually hanging out in the Creative Lounge running happily through ideas for marketing Ocean Spray cranberry blends! Ted and Peggy are PARTICULARLY having fun, cracking each other up with their respective shots at a bad accent that Mathis mistakes for a bad JFK impersonation, asking if they want to use Vaughn Meader in the advertising pitch, quipping that he thought they buried him with Kennedy. But no, Ted and Peggy were taken on a tour of Ocean Spray's plant by an old gentleman in a red shirt with a thick accent. "Ted called him Rose Kennedy," giggles Peggy, while a fed-up Ginsberg asks if anybody mentioned during all the good times of the tour that "Cranprune" sounds like a glass of diarrhea. On that Ted gets serious, explaining that part of the deal with Ocean Spray to get a shot at their blends was that they had to keep Ocean Spray's names... including the terrible ones like Cranprune. Getting down to business, they consider the quality of the different blends, Ted appreciating and writing down Peggy's notes but nobody else's. To be fair, both Mathis and Ginsberg's suggestions aren't good, and in fact appear to be deliberately hostile - the blends are sour, bitter, make your teeth feel weird etc. When Ginsberg complains that he needs to take a leak, Ted actually bellows out happily that it is a good time for a break and asks Peggy to join him for some "chow-dah". They leave together and Ginsberg remains, and when Mathis points out he said he wanted a leak, Ginsberg - fiercely competitive but extraordinarily needy - bitterly admits that all he wanted was to say something that he knew Ted would respond to that DIDN'T come from Peggy. At the Drapers, Megan returns home and finds Don fresh out of the shower and brushing his teeth, and is pleased to see he looks so much better (or is he just sufficiently drunk to be able to present a good front?). The phone rings and she picks up, complaining she can't hear the other person before wishing things had stayed that way when she learns it is Harry on the other end. Not really wanting to but having no choice, she gives the phone to Don who obviously isn't keen to chat either. Harry is calling from California, standing in his motel room in shorts and an open shirt, happily declaring he has good news. "You finally found a hooker who will take traveler's checks?" quips Don right in front of an amused Megan, a line only made funnier (or sadder?) by Harry's soft, self-admonishing response of,"Why did I tell you that?" But Harry has called for a good reason, or at least he thinks so... and no, the good news isn't because he found a mercenary willing to kill Chevy's CEO in revenge for Ken's murder: it's Sunkist. It appears they took on the media package he threw together for them and considering it seriously, and now they are prepared to consider shifting from a print-only campaign to actually doing television. The trouble is, Don told Harry to kill the media plan. When he learns that one of the Sunkist execs - the fat one! - has arranged a meeting with somebody called Sanford who is a "decider", Don warns him again not to let that happen. Harry can't understand, a television campaign is well over double the money that would be spent on a Print Campaign... Don should be over the moon. Don knows it too, and that's part of what this makes him so mad, because he made a promise to Ted Chaough in return for a favor that at the time felt like the most important thing in the world to him... and now the cost of keeping that promise of course has him regretting it. He bids Harry "adios" and hangs up, leaving the bewildered Media Man on a dead line in California wondering how the hell him nearly tripling the worth of a potential new client didn't get him the plaudits he wanted and expected. Back in New York, Megan complains that Harry is a pain in the rear end (she's rightfully never gotten over his crude description of how he'd like to bang her from back at the start of Season 5). So they do, deciding to go see a movie to help brighten their day..... Rosemary's Baby!  They sit in silence as the movie ends and the lights come up, Megan looking like she'd jump 50 feet in the air if anybody so much as tapped her shoulder. "That was really, really scary," she says at last, and after a moment a clearly shaken Don agrees that it was disturbing. As they stand to go though they see another disturbing, and very surprising, sight: Ted Chaough and Peggy Olson! The two are walking happily out of the theater when Megan spots them, everybody caught for a moment in shock at the unexpected meeting. Ted offers lamely that it was "quite a film" before stammering over an explanation for why he and his young female Copy Chief are at a movie together during a work day. It seems SC&P have St. Joseph's Aspirin as a client, and their latest ad is meant to be a take on the final scene of Rosemary's Baby, and Ted and Peggy had an argument over whether there was a Japanese in the scene. Don grasps a significant fact, this means they have both already seen the film and yet came out to see it again... together? Ted simply agrees that this means Peggy remembered the end of the film better, while a nervous Megan tries to pretend this isn't incredibly awkward by noting that "they always have a camera!" Oh my God, "a Japanese" means a Japanese person? Jesus Christ. Megan offers for the four of them to grab a bite to eat, but Peggy begs off, declaring that she has a date (with what, the can opener for her cat's dinner?). Ted nods that she shouldn't let them keep her and she makes a hasty exit, before Ted tries to shift the focus by pointing out that Don is obviously feeling better now. Megan defends him here, explaining she had to get him out of the house, and again offers for Ted to join them for dinner. Checking his own watch, he admits he is supposed to be "throwing a football around" with his sons, and makes his own exit. Once he's gone, Don moves to leave too but Megan pauses him for a second so she can gape and mouth,"Oh my God!" at him over what they just saw, thrilled and scandalized by the idea that Peggy and Ted might be having an affair... or at least on the cusp of one. When they return home, Megan shivers at the thought of living in an old apartment like in Rosemary's Baby, noting there are too many creepy places like that in Montreal. What makes her uneasier though is that Don makes a beeline for the drinks cabinet, and when she offers an uncertain, warning,"Donnn....?" he simply shrugs and says he needs the drink or he'll be too scared to sleep. She lets that pass, instead enjoying being scandalized anew by the thought of Ted and Peggy, noting that THEY won't be sleeping much tonight. Don tries to dismiss that, asking why she finds it so interesting (he really, really, really, really doesn't want to talk about extra marital affairs right now!) and stating he's more worried about using a horror movie as inspiration for a children's aspirin ad. He notes she's been working on a soap for too long and she grins and admits,"Maybe?", obviously in a playful mood... until he mutters about what time it is in California now and, after she tells him it is 3 hours earlier than New York, declares he has to make a phone-call. She watches him - and his drink - head over to the phone, and gives up on her hope she could have one evening of just the two of them. No booze, no work, just her and her husband chilling out and maybe getting in some hot gossip about Ted and Peggy.   The next day at SC&P, Pete is horrified when he comes face to face with a ghost... Ken Cosgrove! Passing Ken's office window on his way to his own, Pete spots Ken - seen only from behind - and gapes in shock, loudly asking what happened, and Ken cries back,"COME IN!" Pete enters Ken's office, and there is the man himself, alive and well.... or rather, alive. Because he's wearing an eyepatch, and there are still small scars on his face from where the buckshot penetrated his skin. Yes, Ken got shot in the face by a Client but he is alive and apparently able to be up and about... but clearly not happy about it. Ken has closed the curtains, and Pete admits that he thought he was still in Detroit: obviously news of this accident hasn't really permeated SC&P yet. Ken explains that he told the execs at Chevy that his wife Cynthia had gotten pregnant, so they took him out to "celebrate" with some bird hunting... and shot him. Despite the obvious pain Ken is in and the literal wounds right on his face, Pete has to force an effort to not look amused by the ludicrousness of this situation. Ken sighs and admits painfully and openly that being Chevy's Account Man is killing him, that he hates Detroit, he hates cars, he hates guns and he doesn't even want to look at a steak anymore! He dabs at one eye, trying to hold back his tears, and while it is slightly comedic it is at least a relief that he also dabs under the eye-patch too... because that at least means he didn't LOSE the eye, maybe the eyepatch will be a temporary thing, though I don't imagine he will ever recover full eyesight. The best Pete can offer is the condolence that Chevy is one of the most prestigious and coveted accounts in Advertising... but Ken doesn't care. He's a husband, he's about to be a father..... THOSE are the things he cares about, not some stupid account that puts him in another city around people he hates. Pete can't quite believe that, EVERYBODY in Accounting wants his job at the moment, while all Ken can think about is the fact that while the execs who shot him in the face were driving him to the hospital.... they tried to stop for lunch. Oh my God. Pete offers a warning that in its own weird, Pete way is a friend looking out for another friend: if he gives up Chevy as an Account, he won't just be laughed out of SC&P, he'll be laughed out Advertising in general. But when Ken mutters that it would be a difficult transition but a workable one given Chevy feels pretty guilty about him at the moment... suddenly Pete sees something, some horrible, glittering thing he'd given up on for the umpteenth time in his life before now. Hope. They're fat yahoos in suits. They're loud, obnoxious, drunken oafs who literally shot his friend in the face. They're soul-destroying, lecherous monsters who only think of themselves and are demanding overgrown babies with an inordinate amount of power. The job is a draining, miserable experience that requires lengthy absences from New York, from family, from loved ones. They're the worst. And they're.... available? Yes, Pete suddenly realizes that Ken's emotional vulnerability could be HIS gain. He valiantly offers to stand in Ken's place if he would be willing to give up that Chevy Account and all the prestige that goes with it. Ken is no fool, but he's also desperate, and sees a lifeline here... but he's also to some extent a good person (and certainly a better one than the lech he was in season 1) at least in relation to others in the Agency. So he asks a pertinent question: what about Pete's family? He doesn't want Pete or his family to suffer the way Ken and his have, and he listens with genuine empathy when Pete admits - because now it benefits him to do so - that he and Trudy have separated, he only sees Tammy every other weekend and so she won't actually notice any difference in their relationship regardless. Ken is sorry to hear that, but also vastly relieved, because he sees - one eyed admittedly - a light at the end of the tunnel at last, a way out of the gilded cage and hidden hell that was being Chevy's lead Account Man. He admits he doesn't know what to say, and Pete tells him he just needs to back him up when they push for Pete to replace him. They shake hands, and only now at the end of this conversation does Pete go to what would have been most people's first reaction: to congratulate him on his baby! As he leaves, Ken watches him go with genuine gratitude, while Pete has an air of gravity and solemnity... that you can beat disappears the moment he is out the door!   Don meets Roger at the foot of the stairs on the Creative Floor, and they follow Moira as she leads them into Ted's office where he is waiting with Jim Cutler. Moira leaves and they all take seats, where Roger takes the lead to give them the good news, as if it came to him directly and not through Don: Sunkist has enthusiastically embraced a television media strategy to the tune of 8 million dollars. Ted and Cutler are both astounded, though for vastly different reasons. Cutler of course only sees the money, while Ted sees a blatant betrayal of a Partner he went out on a limb for who has now gone back on his word, not fooled in the slightest by Roger being the bearer of the "bad" news. Pretending ignorance at first of what this means, he asks if Sunkist doesn't care that they're a month into working on an Ocean Spray account, before demanding to know exactly WHEN did Don sell them on the benefits of color television. On that Don is confident, because it is actually true: he only ever spoke to Sunkist when he was out in California, well before he and Ted made their private deal. Roger insists that it was Sunkist who wouldn't stop bothering Harry, and while Ted complains bitterly that it's disloyal to their existing client AND makes them look like one hand doesn't know what the other is doing... he knows he's fighting a losing battle, and Ocean Spray is now dead in the Cranprune. Even when Don agrees and nods and says the lesson from this needs to be them all working closer together, they all know this is just a nice way of saying Ted and his hard work is getting hosed over. Cutler of course is quick to put on a stern face and agree, admonishing Don that there can be no more surprises... before just breaking out in a smile and gleefully pointing out they just got themselves an 8 million dollar account! Roger chuckles that NOW they can celebrate, and it's all smiles and pointed agreements to avoid this kind of mess-up in the future... all while Ted knows that Don has hosed him. The fact Ted - initially passively to be fair - just recently hosed over Don, Roger and Cooper as part of Cutler's effort to take silent control of the Agency doesn't occur to him of course, just that Don made him a heartfelt vow that lasted all of a few weeks at best before he calmly threw it out the window. So he makes the best of what he can from a bad deal, telling Don that since Peggy has juice experience now she should be on Sunkist. Don of course agrees, it does make sense and Peggy is their top copywriter (sorry Ginsberg, but it's true!)... but this just further cements his own belief that Ted is having or wants to have an affair with Peggy. Does this somehow in Don's mind make Ted as bad as him? Which also somehow means he doesn't deserve to have Don keep his word to him? Or maybe Don just wanted to take control of some aspect of his life after the incident with Sally left him so shaken? Clara pops into Pete's office and is startled to see him happily cleaning that stupid rifle he got for the Chip'n'Dip (I wish Hildy was still around to be unimpressed and take it from him before telling him to go and do his job), as he dreamily declares he's getting ready to do a little hunting. She's amused by his good mood, and also excited by the energy in the air as she asks him what is going on, because Mr. Cooper wants to see him in his office. It's a call Pete has been eagerly expecting, and he stands and adjusts his coat, grinning at his secretary and asking "Annie Oakley" if she'd ever want to leave New York. She makes sure his tie is straight and sees him off with a grin, Pete on top of the world and Clara feeling energized herself by a boss who seems to be on the up cycle of his wild mood swings today. The only sour note for Pete when he arrives at Cooper's office is to find Bob Benson sitting next to Ken on the couch. Bob greets him happily, Pete responds with guarded good cheer before asking Cooper how he is doing, who simply responds with a mutter to him to take a seat, clearly not happy about this situation. Cutler and Roger, as Senior Accounts men as well as Partners, also join them in the room as Cooper ponders an unheard of situation: an Accounts Man wants to get OUT of having the Chevy Account. Cutler and Roger compete (well, okay, Roger competes) with stories of clients doing horrible things - one client cupped Cutler's wife's breast, Roger claims Lee Garner Jr. made him cup his balls! - as if they compare to Kenny GETTING SHOT IN THE GODDAMN FACE. But Kenny is determined, though he does stress he isn't resigning the account... just that he intends to stay here and handle the New York side of their business, while he and Pete have already discussed Pete replacing him on the ground in Detroit. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't reluctant," lies Pete, and Cooper - nobody's fool - tells him he finds the crocodile tears "quaint". Ken, eager to have this transition approved, points out that with Bob there to help ease Pete into the role things should go smoothly, and Bob of course is happy to agree. There's that sour note again. Forcing a happy grin, Pete agrees that Bob spent weeks TRYING to develop ties with Chevy, but surely a new Account Man warrants a new team to signify a fresh start? The others, quite rightly, vigorously disagree, even including Ken who WANTS Pete to take his role: the last thing they want is for Chevy to think of this as starting all over again... after all, what's to stop them starting over with a fresh Ad Agency in that case? No, they need consistency, and that means Bob. Bob, ever the gracious brown-noser, points out it will be easier for them all to have this conversation without him present, and cheerfully leaves the room... and thus makes himself look even more of a team player in the eyes of Senior Account Men whose most pressing interest is about not loving things up with Chevy. Cutler makes that as clear as possible the moment Bob is out of the room: there's nothing to discuss, he likes Bob and Chevy like Bob, and if Pete DOESN'T like Bob... then they'll find somebody who does. Pete takes a moment to glance around the room for support... and finds none. Cutler speaks for all of them, and so of course he pretends to be perfectly happy with this and act like it wasn't a big deal in the slightest, before warmly thanking them all for putting their faith and trust in him... an act so nakedly transparent that even Bob's own obvious brown-nosing looks subtle in comparison. They leave the office, Pete making a big point of joining a beaming Bob and shaking his hand vigorously.... while quietly muttering that he doesn't want to work with him, doesn't want to share a hotel room with him, and that Bob is "sick", the first even indirect reference he has presumably made to Bob's ill-advised come-on in the previous episode. Bob's smile never fades, but he makes a point not to let Pete's hand go as he keeps shaking it, staring directly into his face, asking him why he would say that and insisting he never professed his love for Pete, just an admiration that is quickly waning. The smile remains, but the eyes go cold and hard as Bob smilingly tells Pete low under his breath that he should watch what he says to people. And then the handshake is over, Bob's eyes light up again and he blurts out a loud congratulations, turning and grinning at Clara and asking if she can believe this guy before striding happily away: from loyal subject to coldly delivered threats to grinning loyal idiot all in the space of 30 seconds. Every time I think I have a grip on who Bob is as a character, it immediately changes. It's fascinating... and a little unsettling. Clara of course has no idea of what just passed between the two, still thinking things are in the happy space they were before the meeting. "So?" she asks, and a bitter Pete - his triumph poisoned by the knowledge Bob comes as part of the package - sneers,"So what?" back at her before retreating into his office, presumably to brood in the dark like in days of old.   Betty is driving Sally up to Miss Porter's for her interview, and makes her best effort to get in some mother-daughter bonding on the way that of course slams face-first into Sally being a sullen teenager. She asks if she can have some of the McDonalds fries she bought Sally to eat, tells her she thinks she will do great and attempts to talk about her old childhood friend who got to go to Rosemary Hall much to her envy... but Sally just grunts that she's made her even more nervous and that she's heard the Rosemary Hall story before. Biting back her own frustration at her daughter being a little poo poo, she asks her if she wants to go to Boarding School to get away from boys, and Sally sarcastically asks if she'll stop asking questions if she says yes. Fed up, Betty points out the reason she keeps asking questions is because Sally hasn't told her anything, and when this is greeted by indifferent silence she warns her that she has the power to just turn this car around and drive them home. Knowing she has no choice but to answer now, Sally takes a moment and offers the most reasonable explanation she can think of that her mother will buy (and to be fair, I'm assuming this is primarily driven by a desire to avoid her father, she may have other reasons): she wants to be a grown-up and she knows how important education is to accomplish this. This does somewhat mollify Betty's frustration, offering a quiet,"Oh," that seems to satisfy them both for the time being. As they continue to drive in silence, Sally looks out the window and allows herself a moment of relief, as every mile takes her further not only from her father but eventually the mother who is driving her there in the first place. Freedom, sweet blessed freedom from being caught up in the lives of the parents who she once worshiped and now feels stuck with due to her age preventing her escape... but Miss Porter's offers a potential safe retreat. In New York, Herman "Duck" Phillips takes a call from Pete and is very impressed to learn he is taking over on the ground in Detroit on the Chevy Account. He notes that with a few months logged on that account, Duck can get him a job ANYWHERE, but Pete - who of course runs hot and cold on his dedication to SC&P - explains that he is no longer interested in leaving. So why call? Just to show off his shiny new Account? No, because Pete wants Duck to find somebody else another job: Bob Benson. Yes, if he can't convince the other partners to take Bob out of the mix, he'll entice Bob elsewhere so he removes himself from the equation. At first he tries to pretend that Don dislikes Bob and is preventing him from getting any higher, knowing that Duck dislikes Don enough to believe that. But when Duck - who insisted in an earlier meeting that he was happy now and no longer had the stink of desperation on him - gets the stink of desperation on him and asks if that means they're looking for an Account Man, Pete is quick to shut him down and remind him that there is no way he could ever work for SC&P. But he does admit that he is the one who wants Bob out of the way, he'll be happy enough just with some concrete leads he can present to Bob to convince him to go even if he doesn't necessarily land a job. Duck notes that Bob must be pretty drat good if he's in Pete's way, and he's not just buttering Pete up: Duck has always had a great respect and admiration for Pete's skills as an Account Man, even if the feeling was never mutual. Pete lays out Bob's qualities: he's young, handsome, competent and probably most importantly has a blue blood connection to Brown Brothers Harriman, as well as work history at Beloit and Wharton. That impresses Duck, though he makes a point of noting he's not doing any favors: his bill will be for a $1000 in cash, and he expects it to be paid promptly if he wants those leads fast. As Pete is instigating his own background operation to get Pete out of the picture, we get a rare look at Bob Benson with the mask off... or at least one of them. In his office, unseen by anybody, he's on the phone and snarling in Spanish down the line (presumably to Manolo) that Pete Campbell is a son of a bitch! It must be Manolo, because he's warning him that he doesn't care how nice "she" is, Pete is screwing with HIS future. He must mean Dorothy Campbell, and presumably this - rather sweetly - means that Manolo did actually genuinely care for and appreciate Dot as a person which is... well, that's just nice!   Don is passing Ted's office when he spots Moira standing and glaring into the conference room. Following her gaze, he sees (and hears) Ted laughing uproariously next to Peggy as they look over photos. "Somebody's having a good time," snarls Moira, who regardless of whether it is romantic or not clearly feels territorial around Ted Chaough. Deciding to see what they're up to, Don enters the conference room where he finds Joan sitting at the table quite obviously feeling like a 3rd wheel, and certainly near-invisible which is NOT something she has much experience with. They're cackling over headshots, Don remarking that they should remember that for many of these people this is the BEST photo they will ever have taken of themselves. Peggy though giggles about wanting to put an old man in a wig since he looks like Ruth Gordon, and when Don asks them to fill him in on the pitch, and excited Ted passes it over to Peggy. She's immediately all business, explaining that they'll shoot the ad from the baby's POV. But then Ted gets involved, so excited to share Peggy's idea, and she beams lovingly at him as he places Don in the chair to be the camera/baby, making Joan join them as they run through the 8 or 9 characters they expect to be in the commercial offering all kinds of solutions to help stop the baby crying (Ted encourages Don to make "Waaah!" noises and remarkably, Don does!) until the "beautiful, radiant young mother" steps in holding a bottle of St. Joseph's Aspirin. Of course on that line,"Beautiful, radiant", Ted motions to Peggy and helps guide her forward, one hand clasping against her waist for a moment that doesn't go unnoticed by Don. Peggy steps forward mimicking holding the aspirin while Ted gives the tagline: You don't need anyone's help but St. Joseph's. Don sits quietly for a moment absorbing this, putting on his Creative Director hat to point out that normally a homage like this requires the audience to have seen the movie... but he thinks this is strong enough to work whether they have or not. Ted is thrilled that Don likes the idea too, as is Peggy, and when Don points out that it IS a lot of people she insists you need it to "feel the conspiracy". Ted tells Don to come along to casting if he likes, but Ted himself plans to simply stand and watch, because this was all Peggy's idea and he wants her taking the lead. Her face lights up at that, the smile on her face one that Don has seen directed at him before, though not by Peggy. It is the face of a woman who is in deeply in love, and deeply grateful that her chosen man appears to appreciate her as much as she appreciates him. Joan, who can also see this and clearly finds it sickeningly sweet, points out they'll need to get going if they want to make it to the West Side for casting. They leave, and Don takes a moment before pointing out that is a LOT of people for an ad. Joan notes that she didn't want to dampen their enthusiasm, but the approved budget IS $15,000, and there is at least 35k in residuals alone here. Don is confused, how did St. Joseph's react to the amended budget? They haven't, because Ted hasn't given it to them yet... and he's also covering the cost of casting out of SC&P's own money, insisting that St. Joseph's will be good for it. Don of course is no stranger to diving headfirst into things and expecting clients (and fellow Partners) to fall into lockstep when they see the strength of the Creative... but that's when HE is the one doing it. Somebody else pulling that kind of thing? He thinks that's just not on! They can't spring this on St. Joseph's at the pre-production meeting, especially not when they're 10k in the hole already! Joan simply notes sweetly that SHE doesn't tell Ted what to do, even though of course she is a Partner herself and in fact probably the one most closely linked to the financial side of things (maybe technically Cooper? Though he rarely gets his hands dirty). Don considers this and leaves the room, troubled by the obvious fixation that Ted and Peggy have for each other, especially now that it is actually costing the Agency money (which Don usually couldn't care less about). At Miss Porter's, Betty is enthusiastically extolling Sally's virtues (that Sally probably rarely hears from Betty herself), including that Henry thinks she could be an ambassador one day. What is presumably the Admissions Officer notes warmly how nice it is to hear a mother speak so highly of her daughter, and Betty admits that a school like this was always something she had wanted for herself. She admits that raising a young girl in this day and age is hard enough, let alone being one, and Sally - who of course has to be on her best behavior - barely restrains a grimace at her mother's expense. It seems Sally will be spending the night and then taking part in classes the next day, both for Miss Porter's to get a sense of her but also for her to get a sense of them. She steps up and calls for one of the girls to fetch Sally's escort, and quickly steps in when Betty says she'll be back tomorrow morning to politely but firmly exclaim that 2:30pm would be perfect. Betty accepts this, of course, and after gently brushing Sally's hair behind her ear makes her exit. Sally stands awkwardly left behind, returning a smile from the Admissions Officer, neither seemingly wanting to be the first to make small-talk while they wait for her to leave. At SC&P, Pete is working at his office when Clara informs him over the intercom that his mother is here to see him. He was not expecting that and he certainly isn't pleased about it, striding out of his office and demanding to know what she is doing there, glaring at her new nurse - a black woman named Josephine who is clearly VERY uncomfortable with this situation - and warning her that she has his number and should have called. "This doesn't concern her," snaps Josephine, before smugly declaring that she has come for her passport because she's planning a voyage.... AND she spoke to Manolo! That just infuriates Pete further, especially when she complains that Manolo isn't happy at the way Pete is treating his friend Bob Benson! He demands to know where she saw him, and Josephine takes great satisfaction in turning Pete's own often pointing out of her deteriorating memory against him, simply declaring she doesn't remember. Pete - son of the year - proclaims that she should tell Manolo he almost threw her down the stairs when she mentioned him, and she angrily gasps that she is STILL his mother. Pete ignores that though, sneering that her passport is probably expired like everything else she owns, and he doesn't have it. Looking past her at poor Josephine who did NOT sign up for all this, he warns her she is endangering her position and then storms back into his office, slamming the door shut behind him. At this point, Chevy shooting him in the face might seem like the pleasant alternative. At Miss Porter's, Sally is sitting in the room she will presumably be sharing tonight with the room's occupant, a girl about her own age telling her about how this used to be the living room, and people need to walk through it to get to another girl's room... but they switch over at Christmas for the sake of fairness. Another girl arrives, a blonde, greeting Sally warmly and introducing herself as Mandy. She takes a seat on the bed next to the other girl who tells her about Sally's family lives in Rye AND Manhattan. Mandy chuckles, asking if Dad's remarried and Mom is fat and sad, and Sally smiles and says that's not quite right... but her father's new wife is basically HER age. And then suddenly the laughter is over, Mandy's face going hard as she quietly tells Sally she'd like to feel sorry for her, but things are about to get worse. Perplexed, Sally assumes she means Miss Porter's isn't a good place to stay, but the two girls just sneer at her, warning her that her acceptance here is entirely contingent on what THEY have to say about her... and they can't believe nobody told her that she is supposed to "look after" them. Sally, who has never really been bullied before - she's bright, pretty, forthright and has a strong personality, and for as long as she's known her parents have always been well-off at worst and rich at best - still doesn't get it. She's being hazed, these two girls are using their position to try and eke as much out of her as possible: either booze, cigarettes or at the very least to enjoy having a virtual slave for a night. “I probably have some money?” a confused Sally offers, reaching for her bag, and that just makes them sneer more. After all, they go to Miss Porter’s, do they look like they need money? Still trying to wrap her head around this bizarre (for her) turn of events, Sally says she can get them whatever they want. Looking down on her like some weird kind of insect, they note with disgust that “she keeps talking” before pondering just what it is they might want. Sally sits and waits, her first of what could be many nights at Miss Porter’s certainly giving her a new experience, just probably not one she particularly wanted.  
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Apr 11, 2022 11:41
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A weary and irritated Ted Chaough returns to SC&P, not buying that he just so happened to bump into Don Draper coming the other way, or Don’s pretended ignorance when he asks how Casting went. Because of course it was interrupted by a phone call from St. Joseph’s demanding that he stop casting immediately... did Don send them over an amended Budget? Don, acting like it’s the most natural thing in the world that he of all people would send a client he doesn’t even work with a Budget, says he did but assures Ted that he handled it fine and made sure to play the bad guy. That doesn’t calm Ted at all though, who moans that now he’s going to have to turn a no into a yes, not pleased with Don pointing out that he would have to do that anyway at the meeting once they saw the budget. But why push so hard for such an expansive ad in the first place? Don knows the answer of course, but wants to put Ted on the spot, pointing out that St. Josephine’s has run the same ad for twenty years so why them? Ted sighs that they had been pressuring him for their own “Plop Plop Fizz Fizz” and then Peggy came up with that magnificent idea... how could he turn it down? He admits that she can see the CLIO and he wants to help her get that, asking Don to remember how it felt the first time he had his own big ad. “It’s okay Ted, I get it,” offers Don, and Ted either takes this at face value or is too tired to push back at the implied condescension. Instead he sighs that Don is right that the budget needed to get to them sooner, but asks that he back him up during the meeting tomorrow when he pushes for them to approve the bigger ad. Don of course assures him he will, and as Ted heads in to return to his office, Don watches him go with a seeming mixture of genuine understanding, mild concern... but yes also at least a little contempt. At Miss Porter’s, Sally has - unsurprisingly - seemingly slipped fairly confidently out from under the hazing/bullying of her new “friends” is now sitting on the bed with the brunette who is gossiping happily about a girl who managed to stay skinny at the cost of her breath smelling like vomit (oof). Mandy steps into the room and mockingly notes that “you girls” should go to bed, making them both chuckle before the brunette notices that she has hemmed her skirt to be shorted. Sally tells them about a friend of hers - Sandy - who used staples to do the same and ended up going home with her legs all scratched up. Just then a male voice calls out... for Sally? Looking over, they see a hand pass over the window mantel, and they all rush to open the window fully and help this stranger clamber through the window.... it’s Glen Bishop. Oh sweet Jesus no. Sally notes he got here fast, apparently this is the source of how she won over the two bullies, and what she meant by being able to get them what they wanted. He motions out the window and asks if they have a rope for “him”, and Mandy sends the other girl - Millicent - to let him in through the front. She closes the window as Glen and Sally make awkward small talk, before Glen pulls out a bottle of booze which greatly impresses Mandy. She asks if they can drink it straight, but Sally offers to mix them Tom Collins since that is a trick she learned from her parents. “She’s too much,” laughs Mandy, and Glen with a smile Sally’s way notes that,”She’s okay.” A line that seems to spread a completely genuine and sincere smile over Sally’s face.... oh God no Sally don’t do it.... Millicent returns with the other boy - Rolo - who has bought marijuana. He settles down at the desk to roll them joints, an excited Mandy watching, Glen reassured to learn the housemother is a boozehound who isn’t likely to bother them, though they still know they have to keep the noise down. They all, Sally included, knock back their drinks, and she winces a little but doesn’t complain, enjoying this unusual but highly desired taste of freedom. At SC&P, Pete is working late into the night - of course he is, what else does he have in his life? - when his phone rings, and he has to answer himself since there is no Clara. It’s Duck, drinking a tall glass of milk and musing at how the two of them are working the midnight oil. Pete, whose triumph earlier in the day has turned increasingly sour thanks to Bob and then his mother, has been going over paperwork presumably related to Chevy and is no mood for small talk, asking if the messenger got him Bob’s personnel file ok? Duck did get it... and that’s the problem. It’s nothing. It might as well be steam, as he puts it. Bob Benson might not even be his real name, and he doesn’t even know if 28 is his real age. He certainly didn’t go to Beloit and he can’t find any record of him at Wharton either, though he has a buddy checking out the whole University of Pennsylvania in case he was at least Wharton-adjacent. Pete listens, confused and then horrified, as Duck explains further what he found in his deep dive into Bob Benson’s records, more akin to a Private Investigator than a Corporate Headhunter. He DID work at Brown Brothers Harriman, but it wasn’t as part of a blue blood connection, and the information wasn’t in his personnel record, he got it directly from Pete who got it directly from Bob himself. No, there he was known as “Bobby” and worked as a “manservant” to a Senior Vice President for three years, even getting taken on a trip to Europe with him on the Queen Elizabeth. Duck doesn’t come right out and say it, but his contemptuous laughter says it all: Bob was this VP’s lover/boytoy, an open secret and the subject of obvious derision. From Duck’s friend who works there, he learned enough to know that Bob is originally from West Virginia, though it’s a little more shaky when he claims Bob’s parents might have been brother and sister. Duck also followed up on Bob’s references, which turned out to be two non-working numbers at K&E and a live one at Cunningham who told him straight that Bob worked there briefly and then just disappeared one day with an electric pencil sharpener and the Christmas card list! Yes, Bob just completely fabricated his entire CV, and it seems like the only place that was stupid enough to hire him without a proper background check was... SCDP. When Duck points out that he thinks he should get to keep the money intended as payment for getting Bob job leads since this is probably extremely valuable information, Pete quietly agrees. He’s too shocked not to, because all of these stunning revelations - the homosexuality, the possible incestuous background, the false references etc - is meaningless though against the true horror that Pete is coming to realize. When Duck proclaims with fascination that he’s never seen anything like this before, Pete rigidly returns with a sincere statement of fact. “I have.” The very next scene leaves no shadow of doubt as to who and what Pete means, as we cut to Don Draper sitting alone in the dark in his apartment. He’s drinking (of course) and watching Dragnet, and doesn’t respond when Megan steps out of the bedroom and - trying not to be a nagging wife - warmly reminds him he could be doing this exact same thing in bed. When he doesn’t respond, she simply quietly returns to her bedroom, miserable and alone, not knowing why her husband - only so recently back to the attentive, loving man she had been missing - has taken to heavy drinking and is seemingly holding her at arm’s length.   It’s bright lights and companionship at Miss Porter’s though, as Rolo explains the origin of his name - Ronnie Lowell - though Glen insists it’s because he rolls so many joints. He offers to roll another one now, pointing out that Millicent - who is missing - bogarted the last one and Sally didn’t get to smoke any. Sally, who it seems wasn’t all that keen on that, simply mumbles that she’s really drunk, and Rolo ponders if Millicent is okay. Mandy dismisses that, saying she always freaks out when she gets high. Glen giggles as he weaves a fantasy of her freaking out and thinking her hair is one fire, racing up and down the hallway squealing,”Boy on the floor! Boy on the floor!” This gets Mandy giggling too, and Sally - who as detailed in the previous episode doesn’t have all that much experience with boys - asks if they know each other, confused by how naturally they seem to have fallen into a routine with each other. “Maybe,” agrees Mandy, giving Glen a knowing look and stating that she was reincarnated. “I came back as a fish,” jokes Glen, and she laughs again before noting that he should really read her diary, standing and offering her hand. He of course is quick to take it, knowing exactly what she really means, and a clearly uncomfortable Sally watches them go... not so much from jealousy but because it leaves her all alone with Rolo, a boy she doesn’t know and a situation she doesn’t particularly want to be in. Rolo, who was probably hoping for Millicent, isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth... especially when Sally compliments him on a nice shot when he tosses his scrap paper out the (very large, quite close) window. “I have good hands,” he notes in what is meant to be a seductive tone, placing one arm around her shoulders. “Do you... play basketball?” offers Sally, which would be adorable if this wasn’t so unsettling. Rolo leans in to kiss her, but she turns her head away, smiling in the hopes of not offending him, learning unfortunately like so many women before her that she has to carefully navigate male waters to keep from bruising their egos even when they’re the ones in the wrong. He keeps pushing for a kiss though, assuring her he’s been with lots of girls so he knows what he is doing, in case that was her objection. “What... kind of music do you like?” she asks, trying desperately to just keep this on a simple conversational level between friends. “I don’t want to talk anymore,” he simply states, making it clear that isn’t an option. So this time instead of turning her head, she jumps to her feet, looking around in hopes of options to avoid having to interact with him... or find an escape. Rolo of course is exactly as offended as she was trying to avoid, complaining that SHE called them, as if that gives him free reign to make out with her and show her how good he is with his hands.... what is she, frigid? Sally may be inexperienced, but she also knows she doesn’t have to put up with this bullshit. Angrily she strides to Mandy’s door and knocks on it, calling to Glen to come out. Glen pulls the door open, looking pissed off to be pulled away from his own “fooling around” and demanding to know what she wants... but when she tells him Rolo won’t leave her alone, his tune changes. Glaring at his friend, he angrily reminds him that he told him Sally was like a sister to him. Rolo snaps back grumpily that Glen is full of poo poo, he just wanted “the good one”, and Mandy steps out of the room adjusting her top and asking what is going on. “He tried to force me,” says Sally, glaring at Rolo, and to be fair this is a pretty exaggerated version of what happened even if Rolo was being aggressively forward... but it’s all Glen needs to hear, especially when Rolo complains that she is a lying little tease. He launches himself across the room and slams Rolo against the wall. The two struggle back and forth, Mandy warning them to keep it down, Glen managing to knock Rolo to the floor. As Mandy rushes over to try and separate them, Sally watches from the corner... and a pleased little smile crosses her face. She may not have a particularly romantic interest in Glen, but there is a sense of power and satisfaction to be had from knowing there is somebody who will beat somebody’s rear end for you... even if that rear end belongs to a friend. Broken apart, Rolo leaps up and growls that Glen is suicidal, after all he’s his ride home! He storms out of the room, and Glen collects his things, admitting to Sally that he does have to go home with Rolo (what a drive that will be!) or else have to hitch back. Sally apologizes for wrecking the night, but Glen is more concerned that she is okay, flashing her the peace sign as he goes, telling Mandy it was nice to meet her (and feel her up a little!). Once he’s gone, Mandy closes the door, not overly upset that her own make-out session was wrecked, too intrigued with what just happened to really care. She asks Sally how she knows Glen, and when Sally simply notes they grew up together, she gets a big, approving grin on her face and notes that Sally really likes trouble, doesn’t she? Sally can only grin back, because she knows it is true: tonight she discovered one of the downsides of being a woman... but also one of the potential upsides, and she liked the latter quite a lot.   The next day at SC&P, Don waits in the Conference Room as agreed for the meeting with St. Josephine’s. Peggy is the first to join them, surprised to see him there, and he explains Ted wanted more firepower for the meeting. She’s still confused as to what happened at Casting the night before, and he simply states that you have to be careful about Residuals sneaking up on you... but that they’ll be fine, this is a particular Client battle that they ALWAYS win. St. Josephine’s representative arrives with Joan, Cutler and Ted. Peggy warmly greets “Mr. Poole” who insists on Byron, and they all take seats, the smiles and cookies all preamble before they get into the unpleasantness of a disputed budget. Cutler assures Byron that they’re here to set him at ease, stating that Ted and Peggy will run him through the Creative Genius that has caused this need for a higher budget. The problem is, as Poole remarks with a smile but a warning, is that he already KNOWS what the idea is, and he loves it... but the problem is when he “bought” it from them, he was paying a lot less for it. Ted goes into full schmoozing mode, admitting that the work expanded as it developed but that this is normal, and they still believe the budget will turn out to be a fraction of the sales it will generate. Byron though points out that Ted’s job isn’t to guarantee sales, it is to produce the work agreed to at the cost also agreed to. Here Ted turns around Don’s end-run, proclaiming that this is exactly why THEY sent him the budget the previous day, because they didn’t want any surprises... but it’s worth the money. Don of course nods his agreement, fully in support of Ted at the moment... perhaps cynically because he doesn’t want any excuses or blame on himself for why Ted is hanging himself here. Byron isn’t mean. He isn’t even particularly stubborn. He just... knows what was agreed to. They budgeted for 15k and now Ted wants 50. That’s unreasonable, and he isn’t moved by Ted’s assurances that the work is better, or that it will work to give them the contemporary look they wanted. Those aren’t reasons enough in and of themselves to justify over triple the agreed-upon budget, and nor is Ted’s reminder that their long working history (St. Josephine’s was originally a CGC Client it seems) should be enough to set his mind at ease. “I want a reason. I’m entitled,” Byron simply states, and even Peggy looks a little uncertain now... it seems she wasn’t aware of just what these budget lines are given her reaction to hearing 15k and then 50k straight afterwards. Byron finally loses his smile, reminding Ted that he doesn’t exist in a vacuum either, he has eaten a lot of poo poo from his own superiors after they discovered their ad agency was suddenly presenting a 50k budget for a 15k project. Here Don finally steps in, and the others are all quick to nod along in agreement to his smooth, calming, authoritative voice as he acknowledges Byron’s concerns and essentially repeats back Byron’s own complaints, elaborating on them at last to note that when he is demanding a reason, what he really wants to know is why SC&P are pushing so hard for this seemingly out of nowhere. “It would help,” nods Byron, seemingly placated a little, and everybody seems relieved... Don Draper is here to save the day, to work his magic with that magnificent voice and that imperious look and be the perfect man who everybody just wants to listen to... and then he hangs Ted out to dry. He proclaims that the reason Ted doesn’t want to tell him why they’re pushing so hard is because of a personal matter... a VERY personal matter. Joan and Peggy are confused, Cutler has no idea what is going on, and Ted becomes increasingly nervous as he awkwardly laughs that he doesn’t know what Don is talking about. Maybe on a conscious level he doesn’t even know himself, but somewhere inside of him he’s sweating, and that only grows worse when Don makes an almost imperceptible gesture in Peggy’s direction, leaving him in no doubt at last EXACTLY what he is doing. Yes, Don is taking great pleasure in dangling him over a fire, putting him into a position where he seemingly has to admit, if you want to be crass about it, that he’s pushing this hard because he wants to bone his Copy Chief. He almost seems to be taunting Ted as he tells him to go ahead and tell Byron, go on Ted, do it, tell him why you want to make this ad so much, do it Ted, tell him. When Ted, growing increasingly panicked, can’t think of an adequate cover, Don simply shrugs and takes great satisfaction in stating that HE will tell Byron, then turns around and looks the confused client directly in the face and tells him the reason. It was Frank Gleason’s last idea. Sudden relief washes over the room, at least on Byron and Cutler’s side. Jim of course is quick to agree to the notion, “admitting” that they got sentimental. Byron, who knew Frank well and obviously liked him immediately declares they should have told him in the first place. But for Peggy it is a horror, her eyes closing as she sees - if she doesn’t grasp the deeper purpose behind Don’s cruelty - HER idea given over to Frank Gleason’s memory in a callous act by her former mentor. Joan, who probably grasps how Don was taunting Ted, accepts it as something that happened and now needs to be moved on, but she also knows she just saw a disgusting act perpetrated.   As for Ted? He has to swallow a tremendous amount of poo poo, despoiling the shade of his dead friend as he tacitly agrees to use him as a prop to hide his own shame in addition to benefiting financially from it. “I.... didn’t want to lean on that...” he manages, but a now indulgent Byron declares magnanimously that he is willing to up the budget to 25k. They’ll need to use cardboard cutouts or cartoons to reduce the cast, but he’s willing to give them more than they initially had out of respect for Frank. Ted of course has to nod and smile and shake Byron’s hand with gratitude. Joan offers to escort Byron out, Cutler leaving with him enthusiastically offering to get out to the golf course this weekend, which Byron happily agrees to consider. That just leaves Don, Ted and Peggy alone in the room, and through gritted teeth Ted asks Peggy to leave them alone. Peggy, who had moments earlier angrily asked Don if that was REALLY necessary, hesitates a moment and then is gone. Now Ted turns his anger on Don too, asking essentially the same question, pretending (or deliberately choosing not to see the truth) that he has no idea what Don means when he says it was better than telling Byron the truth. “You’re not thinking with your head,” he insists, claiming that Ted is the one embarrassing himself, rolling his eyes at Ted wanting to give his “little girl” everything because “she has beautiful eyes”. Surprisingly, Ted doesn’t dispute his infatuation with Peggy, simply snaps back that this has nothing to do with it, and Don - still condescending - tells him they’ve all been there... then pauses, considers the implication of that for a second and mumbles,”I mean... not with Peggy....” Now Ted isn’t just angry, he’s deeply offended, snapping at Don not to talk about her like that. But Don presses on, Ted is a fool if he thinks everybody can’t see what is going on, and if he doubts that he should ask Moira, because she certainly knows and disapproves. Once again he repeats that Ted isn’t thinking with his head, and takes a moment to let that settle in before he leaves. Don’s actions were cruel and malicious far beyond they needed to be, but he had a point of a sort. Nobody disputed that Peggy’s ad idea wasn’t a winner, Don himself admitted how strong it was. But Ted was making decisions and allowing extravagances he never would have with anybody else, and putting the Agency at risk of angering or even losing a client as a result. Tripling an ad budget without warning is NOT the reputation an Agency like SC&P can afford, even with their recent triumphs, and Don’s solution did neatly defuse that situation AND get them an upped advertising budget. But it’s WAY Don did, and the true intent behind why he did it that stands out. Because Don took a clear and sadistic pleasure from humiliated Ted in this way. He enjoyed making him squirm, seeing his panic before he “saved” the day. And why? You could make an argument that Don is jealous of the way Peggy looks up to Ted now rather than him, and I think an element of that is true. There was never anything sexual between Don and Peggy, but even the sexual element of her adoration for Ted is another blow against Don’s ego. But I think it’s distinct from that, or at least the major aspect of it. I think Don is angry that Ted had one over on him, even if that “one over on him” was Ted doing Don a huge favor. Ted’s cost for helping save Mitchell’s life was one that Don in the moment thought was a complete non-factor: he didn’t think he was at war with Ted, so he agreed to a ceasefire because he had nothing to lose and everything to gain. However, once Mitchell was free, and especially after the “reward” for that was spoiled by Sally catching him and Sylvia together... Don started to rankle under the entirely reasonable “restriction” that had been placed on him. He wanted an excuse to break it, even if only to distract him from his misery over the situation with Sally... and he found the thinnest excuse to do it. Notice that he dismissed Sunkist despite the bigger budget on offer when Harry first brought it up... and then he saw Ted and Peggy together at Rosemary’s Baby. Soon after that he was back on the phone with Harry getting him to bring in Sunkist. Why? Because suddenly Ted had feet of clay, Don was savagely pleased to see him “exposed” as far from the idealized figure that Peggy saw him as (it’s no coincidence his line about “your little girl has beautiful eyes” could just as easily be about a father doting on his daughter, it all ties back to Sally), and somehow in Don’s mind this gave him the freedom to break his word... and more than that, to “punish” Ted for the sin of being there when Don needed him. So he humiliated Ted, he angered Peggy, but through it all to everybody else (apart from Joan, who is no fool) he looks like the hero. The guy who came in and saved the day, the man with the silver tongue you can always rely on to get you out of trouble. Now Don is - to those who matter - the idealized figure, the hero of the moment, the savior of the day. Not Ted. No. Ted is a pathetic figure who was thinking with his dick and got the Agency in trouble... something Don Draper would certainly never do! Upstairs, completely divorced from all these intrigues, another confrontation takes place. Pete Campbell steps into Bob Benson’s office, watching him from the doorway as Bob listens to music on headphones and drinks his cofee, eyes closed and unaware of Pete’s presence. Pete enjoys the moment for a second, being there and seeing him while remaining unseen, then gets his attention by saying Good Morning. Bob, belying the coldness of their last face-to-face meeting, is all stupid corny grin as he offers back his own cheerful good morning. When Pete notes that Bob didn’t get him a coffee this morning, the grin remains firmly slapped in place as he offers to go get him one, all aww shucks friendliness that always looked impossibly fake but that Pete only just now is really seeing through. Instead, Pete closes the door, steps inside and notes that he always wondered how Bob could be so expertly servile and now he knows... it used to be his job. And at that statement, something absolutely incredible happens.... Bob finally stops smiling. https://thumbs.gfycat.com/AcrobaticDismalCollardlizard-mobile.mp4 “What do you want?” he asks, and with a smirk Pete says he wanted to finally see him stop smiling. “You got it,” replies Bob, standing up, the cold, hard look in his eyes again. But Pete’s response throws him off guard, and the only defense mechanism he really has is to throw on the stupid smile again as he admits to genuine confusion when Pete ponders if he lies awake at night worried about being caught, and surely he has been before? But Pete’s meaning becomes clear quickly, he’s figured out that Bob bullshitted on his personnel file... hell, Pete isn’t even entirely sure who ACTUALLY hired him to work here! On that Bob is adamant though, it was Pete who hired him, and when Pete seems equally flummoxed by this, he explains that he was in a job interview with Ken Cosgrove when Pete walked in, complimented his tie, then walked out... and it was the greatest day of Bob’s life. Did.... did Bob just show up to work one day and say he had been hired? Did he pull a quasi-Don Draper and just pretend he got a job offer like Don may have (we never explicitly found out for sure) done with Roger Sterling? Regardless, it’s exactly this similarity to Don that has Pete concerned. Bob, proving Pete’s speculation about being caught before right, asks if he can at least have a day’s headstart to get the hell out of there before he is exposed (and the cops potentially get involved). Instead of that though, Pete - the son of a bitch screwing up his life - offers him an unexpected lifeline. He can’t bear to think of the damage somebody like Bob could do in 24 hours.... so no, he isn’t giving him a day’s headstart... but he’s also not turning him in! “You’re going to get the benefit of the fact that I’ve been here before!” he snarls at Bob, who has no idea what he’s talking about. “I don’t know how people like you do it,” he growls, admitting with both disgust and an element of envy that he’s certainly better at it than Pete himself is at “whatever I do.” But one thing he has learned... is not to tangle with Bob’s kind of animal. For Bob this is all bewildering. Maybe he’s trying to make sense of it from the point of view of Pete referring to his homosexuality, but it makes no sense to him that way either. He has no context to work from, unlike the viewer, but one thing becoming oddly clear to him is the overall thrust of Pete’s words: he’s not going to expose him, he’s not going to fire him, he’s not going to make him quit. He’s just going to... let him stay? “I don’t understand,” Bob admits, and Pete lays it out: where he is and who he is don’t concern Pete, he surrenders. That just confuses Bob further, and to his great surprise Pete angrily asks him to graciously accept his apologies and continue to work with him... just not too closely. By that he means he is “off-limits”, his only reference to Bob’s sexuality (which even now I’m not entirely sure what that is!) in the entire conversation. His piece said, he turns to leave, pausing in the doorway to demand that part of the price is that Bob find a way to get Manolo out of his “demented” mother’s life. “Manolo doesn’t like women!” Bob insists, adamant about defending his friend, but Pete simply snaps at him to make sure and continues on. Bob is left standing, unsure how to react, not sure whether to smile or cry or just roll up into a confused ball. He has no idea why, but one of the Agency’s Partners just confronted him with his utter fraud and then... told him it didn’t matter and they would in fact actually continue to work together as an effective unit. It does, of course, make perfect sense to us. Because when Pete told Duck he had seen something like this before, he meant Don Draper. He once discovered irrefutable proof that Don Draper had stolen another man’s identity, that he was in fact a poor country hayseed named Dick Whitman, and then delivered that information right in front of Don’s face directly to his Agency’s senior partner. That partner’s reaction? Who cares? Pete has seen it again and again: Don Draper has been exposed, shown to be a fraud, put the Agency at risk, cost them money, lost them hugely valuable accounts... and nothing has happened. If anything, Don has only grown more successful, more rich, more respected, more beloved. And every time Pete has gone up against him? It has resulted in disaster... for Pete. And so what does he do when he discovers another Don Draper in his own Department? One who is impacting on his own career and causing him problems? He decides he simply isn’t going to risk everything and face the possibility of Bob proved to be too like Don and coming out smelling like roses at Pete’s expense. It doesn’t matter that they’re chalk and cheese, that Bob obviously lacks the veneer of sophistication and projection of utter confidence that make people swoon at his voice and forgive him more than most men could ever dream of. Pete sees in Bob another danger to himself, but only in the sense that crossing him is the danger. So he capitulates, he sets ground rules like he has largely set with Don himself, a way for them to work together without allowing Bob’s own problems with interact with his.... or at least such is the hope. Once outside Bob’s office, Pete takes a moment, takes a deep breath and then with a smile at Carla steps out into his own office. He feels secure now, no longer on a knife’s edge. Why? Because despite knowing they have a snake in their nest, Pete has exactly what he wants: he knows where he stands, he knows his own position is secure, and that’s all he cares about. Let Bob do Bob things, as long as they don’t interfere with Pete things, all is right with the world. Bob doesn’t know any of this, and he doesn’t need to know it. He’s not Don Draper, he is at best a poor kid who has learned to lie to get the chances that others take for granted... and at worst a con-man who nestles his way into an environment and lasts as long as he can before going on the run with whatever he can grab. I’ve learned over the course of this season that it is a fool’s errand to try and understand exactly who and what Bob Benson is... but I’ve also learned over the course of this season to be utterly fascinated watching every new wrinkle in his bizarre, unexpected and strange storyline.   Betty has picked up Sally and is driving back to Rye, and when Sally proves uncommunicative she complains that now that Sally has gotten what she wanted she thinks she can be rude.... and in that case, she’s not going to tell her what Mrs. Beresford told her as they were leaving. Suddenly Sally is interested in her mother, not apologetic in the slightest but simply putting aside her indifference to ask,”She talked to you?” Perhaps she fears some revelation about the trouble caused the night before has come out, but more like she just wants to hear what Mrs. Beresford has to say about her chances. It was a good report, Betty doesn’t hold the words over her head but freely gives them to Sally: she’s curious and bright, and received glowing reports from all concerned. “But...?” asks Sally, expecting some kind of caveat, some reason she can’t have what she wants: an escape from her parents who have each continually let her down in some way or another over the last few years. But it’s ALL good news. A girl like Sally, Mrs. Beresford told Betty, especially coming from a family like she does, will have plenty of choices available to her... and she hoped Sally would choose Miss Porter’s. Not the other way around, the choice will be Sally’s, if she WANTS to go, she can. “...Oh....” says Sally at last, seemingly caught between tears (joyful?) and a smile. Pleased, Betty tells her to get her a cigarette and then give her some details. Dutifully and disturbingly well-practised, Sally passes her a cigarette, and Betty in a rare moment of acceptance of her daughter as a distinct person notes that she can tell Sally wants one as well. Even more surprisingly, she allows it, saying she’d prefer Sally did it in front of her than behind her back. So Sally lights up, smoking with obvious practised ease. Betty ponders out loud, sure that her father has probably given her a beer. Sally smokes for a moment, and then offers back a bitter response that is ludicrous on the surface but understandable given recent events. “My father has never given me anything.” Betty considers that, a minor furrow in her brow, confused as to why Sally - always a daddy’s girl - would say something like that. But she doesn’t ask, just continues to drive, mother and daughter on a roadtrip, smoking together and enjoying a rare moment of comparative peace and unity. In New York, Peggy approaches Moira’s desk, asking if she let Ted know she wanted to see him. Moira simply replies he went home, and when Peggy asks,”When?” takes great satisfaction in explaining it was right after she told him Peggy wanted to see him. Peggy lets that sink in for a second, then heads straight into Don’s office, bursting in and finding him lying on his couch with a drink on his chest. She hisses at him that she knows what he did but not why he did it, as he sits up and grunts at her to calm down, acting like she is being silly for being upset at the utter and obvious humiliation he put Ted through earlier in the day. “You want to offer me a drink, pretend like you’re helping me a little more?” she snaps at him, and Don has the temerity to look offended at this. He instructs her to close the door, which just makes her angrier, oh HE deserves privacy? When he points out that there’s still enough money for the ad and they’ll make it work, she cuts through the bullshit and tells him to stop hiding behind the ad, because that is NOT what this was about and they both know it. Don, who perhaps in his own head has been trying to sell himself on this idea, insists that actually he’s the hero because he saved both of them. He tries to shame her by asking her how she thinks it looks, both of them dancing around outright saying it but both clearly aware that there is a romantic interest - probably unconsummated - between Ted and Peggy. But Peggy isn’t letting him get away with making out like he was altruistic or high-minded in this endeavor. She tells him, not for the first time, that he hates that Ted is a good man, and Don decides to do away with all subtlety and just come right out and say it: Ted isn’t all that virtuous, she just thinks that because she’s in love with him. If he expected that to stun her or make her retreat into denials, he’s not going to get his way for once. Peggy knows what buttons to push to hit him hard just as well as he knows how to use them on her. He killed Ted, he killed the ad, he killed everything... so he can stop now. “I’m just looking out for the Agency,” he claims, a lie he can’t even believe himself. Peggy treats that statement with the contempt it deserves, looking down on him with utter disgust before proclaiming that he is a monster. She leaves the office, closing the door behind her to give him that privacy, and all his confidence and low-level contempt drains out of his face. There it is, another woman in his life whose respect and love for him he has destroyed through his own selfish actions. Much like the start of the episode, the end finds Don curled up. This time he’s on his couch in his office, miserable and alone, knowing an important woman in his life hates him, knowing that he’s the root cause of it... and knowing that there is little if anything he can do to fix it. To do so would require fixing something in himself, and that level of introspection is something Don Draper has continually run away from his entire life... even as he can’t stop picking at the scabs of all his unhealed wounds. As season 6 draws near its end, we find Don Draper once again a commercial and even Creative success... and once again utterly miserable and succeeding in alienating all those he holds close and dear to his heart. Eventually this has to stop, and it seems increasingly likely that will be not when he finds a way to improve himself, but when he finally runs out of people to betray, disappoint and let down.   Episode Index
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Apr 11, 2022 11:42
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Jerusalem posted:"I'll pay for it all," Don IMMEDIATELY declares, putting up zero fight, protest or even register of surprise. His lizard brain has immediately gone,"THAT'LL PUT HER OUT OF THE PICTURE!" and he has grasped at it as greedily as he's picked up his now empty bottle of vodka, more interested in his own self-preservation than repaired the tattered remains of his relationship with a daughter who once worshiped the ground he walked on. Great review as always Jerusalem, though I think this bit is an uncharitable read. Don isn't trying to put Sally out of the picture, he's trying to do what he always does with problems and *fix it with money*. He recognizes that he has deeply wronged Sally and wants to correct that, but obviously cannot speak to her about it and ask for forgiveness because that would acknowledge it happened, treat her as an equal human being, and probably require some sort of correction towards Megan. So wants to throw some money at the issue - like he did with Adam and others.
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Apr 11, 2022 14:29
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ANOTHER SCORCHER posted:Great review as always Jerusalem, though I think this bit is an uncharitable read. Don isn't trying to put Sally out of the picture, he's trying to do what he always does with problems and *fix it with money*. He recognizes that he has deeply wronged Sally and wants to correct that, but obviously cannot speak to her about it and ask for forgiveness because that would acknowledge it happened, treat her as an equal human being, and probably require some sort of correction towards Megan. So wants to throw some money at the issue - like he did with Adam and others. I think he'll rethink after the next episode
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Apr 11, 2022 15:20
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I think we need to start by discussing the most important moment of the episode https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LJ_2-KNqh4g
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Apr 11, 2022 15:33
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Jerusalem posted:But Pete’s meaning becomes clear quickly, he’s figured out that Bob bullshitted on his personnel file... hell, Pete isn’t even entirely sure who ACTUALLY hired him to work here! On that Bob is adamant though, it was Pete who hired him, and when Pete seems equally flummoxed by this, he explains that he was in a job interview with Ken Cosgrove when Pete walked in, complimented his tie, then walked out... and it was the greatest day of Bob’s life. Am I misremembering or was there a moment earlier in the season where the topic of "Wait, when did Bob Benson start working here" came up and was brushed aside? I want to say this isn't entirely new information. Regardless, I almost posted this after the last episode but figured I might as well wait until Duck's reveal: When this season was originally airing, "What is Bob Benson's deal?" was maybe the hottest topic of conversation among reviewers and recappers. There were people who thought he was a corporate spy planted by a rival agency - or maybe just a plain-old spy, a G-Man in deep cover to finally bust Dick Whitman for desertion. There was the theory that he was a bastard son of Don's that was trying to get in touch with his father through his business (Please ignore the fact that Don would've been...13? 14? for this timeline to work.) And of course, there was speculation that he was a serial killer, because yet again some people still thought they were watching a very different show six years in. Making a pass at Pete was what made people realize maybe Bob was, in fact, just a highly-motivated junior employee who happened to be closeted - so following it up a week later with "That's still true, but also he lied about his entire life history to get this job" was a fun one-two punch. In my mind, one morning not long after SCDP expanded to the second floor, Bob simply stepped off the elevator holding two cups of coffee, walked in like he was supposed to be there, and gave one to a secretary (Meredith, 100% it was Meredith) who bought his story about how he hadn't finished filling out his paperwork for payroll without question and helped onboard him without anybody in management knowing a thing. It was basically how that Kramer B-story from Seinfeld would've gone if Kramer had been good at the job. kalel posted:I think we need to start by discussing the most important moment of the episode And to say nothing of Joan's fantastic performance of "Pushy Jewish Mother"
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Apr 11, 2022 15:57
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We are now officially one episode away from the greatest line reading in the history of TV 
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Apr 11, 2022 17:41
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