Frank Ockenfels/AMC Roger Sterling (John Slattery) and Don Draper (Jon Hamm) from Season 6 of âMad Men.â Every Monday morning, Sloane Crosley and Logan Hill will be offering their post-âMad Menâ analysis here. Read on and tell us what you think: Is Peggy the new Don Why did Betty go brunet And can Don change
Sloane Crosley: So what was that we were saying about this being a lighter, ebullient antidote to last season
Logan Hill: Well, it started out sunny enough, though thatâs the first time Iâve ever seen someone read Dante on the beach.
SC:Â Itâs âThe Inferno,â Logan. Did you bring your sunscreen At what point did you realize that Don wasnât speaking aloud, and then at what point did you think it would be the whole episode Or maybe that second thought process was just mine.
LH: Iâve got to say, that first scene bothered me. Because I love this show least when itâs telegraphing its intentions with blatant symbols, historical references and quotations. This premiere, we get at least two from Freshman Lit: That Dante quote and then âLend me your earsâ from Peggy, who may succeed Don. Iâm afraid Don is Caesar, Peggyâs new boss is Brutus, and sheâs Marc Antony in the show creator Matt Weinerâs mind. Or that Iâm as high as Stan.
SC: Well, itâs the only thing he says and just a few lines. The rest of that passage from âThe Infernoâ is about abject terror, which pretty much describes Donâs face in this episode. Itâs funny, I kept thinking that this took place just a few years before Joan Didion started escaping to the Royal Hawaiian and her descriptions of it being this enclosed sanctuary in the sand were fresh in my mind. Now that kind of thing seems like a nightmare â" forced sanctuary â" like being on a cruise ship. Itâs interesting to watch Don pick that up and be disgusted by the âthis one goes out to all the Yankees and pale faces out there! Enjoy your pig!â
LH:Â Didion was on my mind too but more because of âSlouching Toward Bethlehemâ and Nicholas von Hoffmanâs We Are the People Our Parents Warned Us Against, their riffs on the sadness of the hippie culture that Betty invades like some tourist. To me, Don seemed so troubled by the ease of Hawaii. Standing in his office, staring at the window, hearing the ocean: That shot was oddly morbid.
SC: Nothing good ever comes on this show when you see a tight shot of the back of someoneâs head.
LH: Yes! And is Megan creeping up behind him Ready to push him down the stairs Iâve got to say, I was happy to see Megan looking great and doing well as a man-murdering femme fatale star of daytime television. Do you still loathe her
SC: Iâm glad you brought her up while weâre still on the subject of Hawaii because every pattern she wears is derivative of or an actual Lilly Pulitzer, who died Sunday. So letâs pour out a blue drink for Ms. Pulitzer. Meanwhile, I donât loathe Megan. I just hate that the show sets it up so that she has to be an objective victim for me to like her. She has to be cheated on or have a terrible mother.
LH: But I feel like she is definitely herself. Sheâs created her distance from Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce and Don, which is why I feel sheâs almost like a control group in this caustic experiment of a show.
SC: I will definitely concede Megan-as-control-group. Womanâs like the blank in Scrabble and about that beige and surface as well. But Iâll give Megan this: when it comes, her depression is traceable. She wasnât getting acting gigs in Season 5 and that made her sad. Now sheâs on daytime and TV and getting recognized and sheâs happy. Whereas Roger and Don and Pete (oh my) Forget it.
LH: In last seasonâs premiere, Betty got fat. In this one, she got brunet. Like Megan. Like the 15-year-old girl she jokes that Henry should rape.
SC: The most lighthearted description of raping a minor ever to play on TV.
LH: A low-water mark! But Bettyâs line made me gasp â" and it didnât for work me. Sheâs rarely been so crass before. And thereâs no way she thought Henry would find it funny. Heâs too much of a prude. But when Betty went brunet, do you think it was to be more like the teen violinist Because the hippie called out her âbottledâ blonde hair Or something else
SC: I actually think your two Betty observations are connected. I think she went all Elizabeth Taylor because that filthy beatnik called her a bottled blonde. But there was also the threat of violence during that whole scene. The sous chef in a beanie wouldnât have been able to stop the alpha hippie from really hurting Betty. And as much as a relief as it is that the tension only culminates with her coat getting ripped, I think thereâs something dark (-er than suspected) in Betty where she was almost disappointed. In an alternate world where pretense wasnât an issue She and Don are perfect for each other because both their minds instantly go to the darkest place.
LH: They do share a certain cataclysmic view of everything. And some odd inner toughness, which we donât often see from Betty. I get misty thinking of her in her housecoat with the shotgun, though I doubt Betty is Donâs Beatrice, waiting for him in the Eden of Rye, N.Y.
SC:Â Letâs talk about how hairy everyone has gotten (mountain man Stan! Sideburn Pete!) vs. how fresh-faced Bob is.
LH: I canât tell if itâs the 1960s or a werewolf movie. In the office, Pete certainly seemed more arrogant than ever, mocking Donâs nap habit. And if anyone on this show is going into therapy, Iâm glad itâs Roger: He just needs a room in which to deliver monologues. Itâs like an Off-Broadway theater.
SC: The bit about the bill and the doors and all of it. Perfect Roger and delivered in these great doses Weiner knew we were waiting for. Though I have to say, the Roger plotline is arguably the focal point of the episode, the one we check back in on with the most frequency and the most varied ways (the shrinkâs office, the funeral, the office itself), and yet, the whole âthis personâs in shock and they will crack later over a more minor incidentâ device is something Iâd see on âThe Big Bang Theory.â
LH: Heâs such a slippery, witty, superficial nutjob, his storylines never quite touch ground. But I never quite mind, either. The rest is bleak enough. Can I nerd out with 2 quickly-Googled historical references
SC: By all means.
LH: I think the showâs saying something about the weird ways that legacies hold all kinds of surprises, whether family or work: That Leica M2 Don gave the doctor The photographer Nick Ut used that model to take the Pulitzer-winning âNapalm Girlâ photograph in 1972. Since Dow Chemicalâs napalm is also handled by Donâs ad agency, itâs horrifically ironic. And when Rogerâs daughter â" after declining his sketchy-looking jar of River Jordan water â" says, âRefrigeration. Itâs the wave of the future.â I couldnât help but think of âThe Graduate.â It opened, Dec., 22, 1967, just a few days before this episode, with the line: âPlastics. Thereâs a great future in plastics.â
Photo by Movie Still Archives Dustin Hoffman in âThe Graduate.â SC: You know, overall, I think there was a theme of lost causes in this episode. Don tries to help a younger version of himself (the kid he married on the beach) only to discard him by discarding the lighter. Betty tried to help a younger version of herself, Sandy, only to abandon the cause. Roger tried to help his daughter only to realize sheâs a little schemer like him.
LH: Good point. Itâs almost an obsession with legacy. Everyoneâs thinking about their own death, and wondering what theyâll leave behind.
SC: What did you think of Peggyâs new attitude
LH: Her emergence as Don 2.0 is so obvious but Iâm glad they sped through it. By the end of the episode, Ted is already pushing her to drop the Draper pretense. And Peggy is her own person. Sheâs the one with the killer pitch in this episode: Not Don, who flubs it.
SC: The king is dead, long live Peggy. All of Donâs pitches this round were about falling in love with âan ideaâ or âan experience,â and Iâve heard it all before. Iâm over the emotional shell game.
LH: Yes, Donâs the same depressed horndog, on a different depressing day. I feel like the whole series is built around this idea that most people donât really change (See: Rogerâs riff on doors), and I wonder how long that can last before even folks who love it lose patience.
SC: Maybe Don could take his advice and stop feeling so damn sorry for himself.
LH: I hope so. That was the bummer about his affair with the wife of his noble cross-country skiing surgeon pal: Heâs lying naked in bed with her, making his new yearâs wish, âI want to stop doing this.â
Sloane Crosley is the author of âHow Did You Get This Numberâ and âI Was Told Thereâd Be Cakeâ; Logan Hill is a journalist who has contributed to The New York Times, New York, GQ, Rolling Stone, Wired and others.