*Warning, spoilers ahead from the most recent episode of Mad Men.*Before I launch into my review of the latest MM episode, I have one, tiny complaint: I'm a patient person, at least when it comes to giving my favorite shows/actors/writers a little latitude to see where they're going, because I've liked where they've gone in the past. Whatever it is that I'm watching/reading/listening has to have a payoff, I think, so I'm willing to wait it out. (That's how Lost gets its fans to hang on through things like the Nikko and Paolo debacle.)
And given that I've expressed my adoration ad nauseum of Mad Men and the genius of a show runner Matt Weiner, you know that this comes from a place of love: What was up with the past two episodes? Have they been dragging and excruciatingly slow, or is it my imagination? I can usually revel and delight in the subtle sophistication of a slow-moving plot, particularly in the case of Mad Men, but the last two episodes have left me feeling distinctly unsatisfied, and I don't know if the pace is the reason. Or maybe it's just me.
Annnywaaay . . . onto "The Arrangements."
After I finish watching a Mad Men episode for the first time, I typically reflect upon it as if it were a puzzle, seeking the connective threads that unify disparate storylines. For this recent episode, with the exception of the advent of Sal the Director, it seemed like the theme du jour was the parent/grandparent child relationship.
Grandpa Gene's Arrangements
The most obvious story that fit into that theme involved Gene Hofstadt who put a concerted effort into his relationship with his two grandchildren, and simply tolerated his daughter and his son-in-law. His efforts were followed, of course, by his abrupt departure from his grandchildren's lives after he suddenly dropped dead in the line at the market. Gene seemed to be trying to bond with Sally and Bobby in his own, eccentric manner, like allowing his little princess Sally to drive (!!) and telling her not to give up on herself (unlike her mother), and giving Bobby some of his coveted treasures from his World War I days. Don -- who'd been a supportive though not emotionally accessible son-in-law -- blanched when he saw Gene giving Bobby the helmet Gene had taken from a soldier he'd killed, a helmet which still had blood on it. Don took the helmet away from Gene and that was that. Otherwise, Don and Gene kept a largely silent distance from one another.
With his daughter Betty, Gene expressed his disappointment over how Betty's life had turned out, in particular by her selection of a husband whom Gene never trusted because Don has no family and "no people." During an awkward conversation at the Drapers' kitchen table, Gene attempted to discuss "arrangements" with Betty in the event of his passing. Betty reacted to this subject matter much like a small child, saying she couldn't handle such talk ("I'm your little girl!") and fled the room. I must say, I am so not liking Betty this season. The self-sufficient, adult Betty of last season, who toughened up in Don's absence, seems to have disappeared. What a damned shame.
Shortly after Gene died -- I thought, that because of the way he was doling out parting words and gifts that he was going to commit suicide -- Betty, Don, William and Judy were sitting around the same kitchen table where Gene had tried to talk to Betty about his arrangements, and they were grieving in a matter-of-fact way, with Betty tearing up off and on. It was Sally, still in her leotard and tutu, who exhibited ferocious, gut-level anger that her grandfather had been unceremoniously taken from her. She was furious and raw. Betty had no patience for that and harshly told Sally to stop being "hysterical" and to "go watch TV." Off Sally went seeking solace in front of TV news footage of monks setting themselves on fire to protest the Vietnam War. Sally must've felt like that in some way, except her flames were of burning rage.
Peggy's Mother Felt Betrayed
Peggy decided she needed to move to Manhattan because her commute to Sterling Cooper was too long and draining. A very reasonable and sensible move. But her mother, once the most vocal advocate on her behalf in the Olson household (while Peggy's sister Anita bad-mouthed her to Father Gil, mentioning Peggy's unwedded motherhood and giving the baby up for adoption), morphed into a bitter, martyred, spurned matriarch upon learning that her daughter was leaving the bosom of Brooklyn. Peggy moving out of Brooklyn was a betrayal, as far as her mother was concerned, and Peggy deserved to be punished for it. The transition from being a supportive mother to a caustic one, was jarring, especially to Peggy, whose apartment hunt provided the few moments of levity in the episode.
Other parent/child scenes:
When Don fetched a box, which contained evidence of his Dick Whitman existence, he plucked from it a photo of his father upon which he gazed. What was he thinking or feeling in that moment? Was he remembering how he felt upon the passing of the father whom he despised? Who knows.
Then there was the rich, young client, the jai alai aficionado friend of Pete Campbell's from college, who wanted to blow $1 million with Sterling Cooper on the packaging of a jai alai star and the sport. Because Don knew the client's father was a friend of Bert Cooper's, Don felt it appropriate to give him a heads-up to his son's misguided business venture. A kind, gentlemanly thing to do, though it is a tad patronizing. The father knew all about the plan and described how he was allowing his son to do this as a form of tough love; when his son loses all his money, then, the father said, he'll have to build character and put his nose to the grindstone. That's the only way he'll learn, the father said.
The Sal story seemed disconnected from the other parent-child-centric ones, but it was nonetheless intriguing. As you watched his wife Kitty, in her sweet confection of a green nightie, practically begging her husband for sex, you felt pity for her, while at the same time, could feel Sal's excitement at being able to release some of his creativity -- some shred of his true self -- through the filming of the commercial. If only Sal could actually be himself, instead of pretending to be a happily married man.
One last tidbit: What happened to the season two Bobby Draper? He was by far the best Bobby. Remember that scene when he told Don that he needed a new daddy? This new Bobby -- what is this the third or fourth Bobby? -- doesn't fit in the way the previous one did.
So what'd you think of "The Arrangements?"
Image credit: Carin Baer/AMC.
