When I watch doctor shows, I always wonder if doctors watch them too looking for things that don’t measure up to reality. That’s not really how I watch Mad Men, but it’s one of the reasons I enjoy it so much. It’s the subtle nuances in the dialogue that tell me somebody on Mathew Weiner’s writing staff actually worked on Madison Avenue. Things like “He wants to see copy on Monday and art on Tuesday. Sorry you’ll have to work the weekend.” And what about getting so desperate for ideas that you end up calling the pot guy and clogging the door with your Mohair sweater while you turn your office into Spicolli’s van?
Yes, that really happens.
But I have to say that while I am enjoying the show’s true-to-lifeness about the ad biz, I’m getting bored with the lack of soap opera drama that would carry the plot from episode to episode. Like, what is Sal doing to repair those closet door hinges? Why isn’t Don’s past looming over him anymore, or his infidelities? Where did Pete’s fight go? He was pissed when he found out he had to share Head of Accounts duties with Kenny, and suddenly they’re going to the Hampton’s together on the weekends?
It seems the character to despise on Mad Men is turning out to be Roger Sterling. What an ass he is. Black face? Really?
But the real disappointment last night was the ending. When Roger’s drunk wife says something stupid to Don and Betty about getting back together, shining a bright light on their recent problems, it would have been the perfect time for Betty to confront him. Instead, the show ended with a romantic moonlit hug shared by Mr. and Mrs. Draper.
Then again, maybe she was thinking about that handsome man with salt and pepper hair who hit on her by the bathroom earlier in the evening. Is Betty silently plotting her own revenge?
If this plot continues in a disjointed, Lost-like fashion, we may never know.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Season Three, Episode Two
Mad Men continued to show us last night that while some things have changed since 1963, many things, especially in advertising, have stayed the same. Burt Cooper’s line, “We’re an advertising agency. If I had to come down here every time we lost an account I’d wear out the carpet.” So the client/agency relationship was just as precarious then. Good to know.
Then there’s Peggy, illustrating the realities of being the only woman in a male-dominated business. She’s the story of my life. And when she expresses to the boys in the conference room her confusion at the way they are targeting a diet drink to women—with a sexy model who speaks to men—it feels like an argument I’ve tried to make countless times. And Don’s answer is also one I’ve heard before. “Men want her, but women want to be her. In that way, it speaks to women.” And then he whispers some advice in her ear, something about keeping some tools in her drawer. Which is just another way of saying, “pick your battles.” Which is another way of saying, “You’re a woman. You will never convince us that you know more than we do about anything. Find an argument you can actually win.”
I’m perched on the edge of my seat waiting to see her prove them all wrong.
Peggy then performs an unfortunate interpretation of Don’s advice by pulling out the tool women tend to fall back on when they can’t control anything else: sex. When she can’t gain control in the boardroom, she tries to find it by propping her pointed bra on the nearest bar, batting her eyelashes at the first boy to notice her. He is inferior to her in both maturity and sophistication, but that doesn’t stop her from going home with him to show him the tools in her entire tool shed. It was sad to see her stoop below herself like that, and sad to see her get desperate with the desire to gain the respect of the men around her.
We also see her struggle to find her identity as a strong woman in a world where women are not yet expected to be so. We see her try to emulate Don. Then we see her look admirably at Joan as she shakes her ass through the office, knocking down every man in her wake. Who does Peggy want to be? Does Peggy even know?
I told you, I could go on for days about Peggy and as it turns out, I have.
My only other insights into this week's Mad Men is that Roger Sterling is always late for meetings but seems too naïve to notice and too powerful to care, epitomizing most creative directors in this business.
And that I continue to love this show for letting me live in an era, if for only an hour, when women got to smoke and drink while they were pregnant and never felt guilty about letting their children sit in front of the TV all day.
Then there’s Peggy, illustrating the realities of being the only woman in a male-dominated business. She’s the story of my life. And when she expresses to the boys in the conference room her confusion at the way they are targeting a diet drink to women—with a sexy model who speaks to men—it feels like an argument I’ve tried to make countless times. And Don’s answer is also one I’ve heard before. “Men want her, but women want to be her. In that way, it speaks to women.” And then he whispers some advice in her ear, something about keeping some tools in her drawer. Which is just another way of saying, “pick your battles.” Which is another way of saying, “You’re a woman. You will never convince us that you know more than we do about anything. Find an argument you can actually win.”
I’m perched on the edge of my seat waiting to see her prove them all wrong.
Peggy then performs an unfortunate interpretation of Don’s advice by pulling out the tool women tend to fall back on when they can’t control anything else: sex. When she can’t gain control in the boardroom, she tries to find it by propping her pointed bra on the nearest bar, batting her eyelashes at the first boy to notice her. He is inferior to her in both maturity and sophistication, but that doesn’t stop her from going home with him to show him the tools in her entire tool shed. It was sad to see her stoop below herself like that, and sad to see her get desperate with the desire to gain the respect of the men around her.
We also see her struggle to find her identity as a strong woman in a world where women are not yet expected to be so. We see her try to emulate Don. Then we see her look admirably at Joan as she shakes her ass through the office, knocking down every man in her wake. Who does Peggy want to be? Does Peggy even know?
I told you, I could go on for days about Peggy and as it turns out, I have.
My only other insights into this week's Mad Men is that Roger Sterling is always late for meetings but seems too naïve to notice and too powerful to care, epitomizing most creative directors in this business.
And that I continue to love this show for letting me live in an era, if for only an hour, when women got to smoke and drink while they were pregnant and never felt guilty about letting their children sit in front of the TV all day.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Season Three, Episode One
As Season Three of Mad Men opens in a nativity scene-type flashback, we see Don stand in his own kitchen warming milk for his pregnant wife while watching his own birth take place. Are we surprised that he’s the accidental son of a whore? Not really. More surprising is his loving gesture of bringing the milk up to Betty, then coaxing her back to sleep with cuddles and gentle whispers in her ear. Maybe I’m naïve, but it made me feel like maybe he wouldn’t cheat on her this time when he went on a business trip. Not even with a stewardess. Not even with a Southern-accented blonde stewardess who comes onto him like a frat guy three beer bongs into a keg party. But alas, Don Draper is riddled with issues that keep him from being the best husband he can be. Hence, the flashback.
Back at the office, Sterling Cooper is going through the growing pains of a giant merger. Those of us in advertising know it all too well. Merger equals layoffs. And nobody knows day to day, for quite some months, if they’ll be shit-canned or promoted. Peter, our favorite villain, gets promoted to head of accounts as his predecessor is still trashing his office. Peter is thrilled with the news, until he learns that he is to share that title with Kenny Cosgrove, who is adorably non-competitive about the whole thing while Peter whines and kicks as we cackle inwardly.
Joan, office manager and resident vamp, sashays through the office trying to do her best Mother Henning. She even tries to make the assistant to the “limey vulture” of their new parent company feel better by giving him Burt’s old office. But when this assistant asks her to call him Mr. So and So, instead of John, she quickly puts him in his place by reminding him that he is “just a secretary.” Oh the beauty of the role reversal. Oh the beauty that is Joan.
Meanwhile, Sal’s homosexuality peeks out of the closet again as he accepts a proposition from his bellman. And when a fire alarm in the hotel has Don and his stewardess shimmying down the fire escape, they find themselves outside Sal’s window bearing witness. Don and Sal exchange a look, but nothing is ever said, save for Sal’s pained look of guilt. All while Don Draper never bats an eyelash about the stewardess under his arm. I love this show for showing us a world where it was okay to drink and smoke all day, but I’m sure glad we now live in a world where marital infidelity is more shameful than being gay.
I also love this show for the attention to detail it pays to that era. Maybe it’s because our own little agency is in the midst of a pitch about evolving technology, but did anyone else notice the crappy quality of the room-to-room intercom system? When Don’s secretary lets him know someone is there to see him, her words are hilariously indecipherable.
Regarding attention to detail, the show is usually spot on when it comes to the ad biz. More so than any show we’ve ever seen. But I have to say that the scene where Peter and Ken were being read their list of accounts went on for days. I didn’t count, but it seemed like Sterling Cooper, supposedly a mid-size agency, has 40 some odd accounts?
I don’t think so.
--Stefani
Back at the office, Sterling Cooper is going through the growing pains of a giant merger. Those of us in advertising know it all too well. Merger equals layoffs. And nobody knows day to day, for quite some months, if they’ll be shit-canned or promoted. Peter, our favorite villain, gets promoted to head of accounts as his predecessor is still trashing his office. Peter is thrilled with the news, until he learns that he is to share that title with Kenny Cosgrove, who is adorably non-competitive about the whole thing while Peter whines and kicks as we cackle inwardly.
Joan, office manager and resident vamp, sashays through the office trying to do her best Mother Henning. She even tries to make the assistant to the “limey vulture” of their new parent company feel better by giving him Burt’s old office. But when this assistant asks her to call him Mr. So and So, instead of John, she quickly puts him in his place by reminding him that he is “just a secretary.” Oh the beauty of the role reversal. Oh the beauty that is Joan.
Meanwhile, Sal’s homosexuality peeks out of the closet again as he accepts a proposition from his bellman. And when a fire alarm in the hotel has Don and his stewardess shimmying down the fire escape, they find themselves outside Sal’s window bearing witness. Don and Sal exchange a look, but nothing is ever said, save for Sal’s pained look of guilt. All while Don Draper never bats an eyelash about the stewardess under his arm. I love this show for showing us a world where it was okay to drink and smoke all day, but I’m sure glad we now live in a world where marital infidelity is more shameful than being gay.
I also love this show for the attention to detail it pays to that era. Maybe it’s because our own little agency is in the midst of a pitch about evolving technology, but did anyone else notice the crappy quality of the room-to-room intercom system? When Don’s secretary lets him know someone is there to see him, her words are hilariously indecipherable.
Regarding attention to detail, the show is usually spot on when it comes to the ad biz. More so than any show we’ve ever seen. But I have to say that the scene where Peter and Ken were being read their list of accounts went on for days. I didn’t count, but it seemed like Sterling Cooper, supposedly a mid-size agency, has 40 some odd accounts?
I don’t think so.
--Stefani
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
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