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Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Mad Men - "A Little Kiss"

Season 5, Episodes 1-2 

“You're all so cynical. You don't smile, you smirk.” 

It's long been an accepted fact that one of Mad Men's defining traits is how it differed from the public perception of the 1960s. While the majority of the people perceive the 1960s a period of great social change – and it indeed was, in part – things that would define the decade like race riots, feminism, and a growing distrust in the government wouldn't really happen until the second half of the decade. As such, the first four seasons of Mad Men have taken an approach that's antithetical to the public memory of the decade, but one which is more historically accurate, as it works through the lens of impending societal doom for the white men at the center of the narrative. Yet as the show enters its fifth season, and drops in the audience in the summer of 1966, the narrative has to change, and “A Little Kiss” eases us into this new environment through story elements both internal and external.

Last season's finale, specifically the moment where Don proposed to Megan, was an interesting one from the fan and critical reactions, as it marked perhaps the one of the most emotional of all responses to the show during it's entire run. Mad Men, at least in my viewing of the show, delivers its joy on an intellectual level as opposed to an emotional one, and it often keeps it audience at a cool distance in order to achieve the former reaction. This is not a criticism so much as an assessment of its style – I personally enjoy that the show is more interested in making me think than reaching me emotionally, probably because that's such a rare approach taken in television – so it was shocking to me that the show produced something so antithetical to the normal response it pursues/engenders.

Admittedly, these emotional responses seemed to be split between those concerned for Don and (perhaps the larger portion of them) those worrying about the kind of stories the show was telling, but they all seemed to center around Meagan and her role in the show. As such, “A Little Kiss” seemed to be innately aware of this situation, and it used the two hour running time to not only provide reasoning for Megan's utility within the narrative, but also used her as a way to shepard the show into the back half of its decade.

Megan couldn't be a bigger late 60s-era stand-in if she (or the show) tried. She knows a gay black man, and invites his jazz band to the party, where she preforms an international pop song (it's called “Zou Bisou Bisou”, by the way) to an unreceptive white audience. That gaggle of friends smokes tea out on the balcony. Megan herself seems primed for independence and self-reliance, considering that she still holds a separate bank account from Don, and still refers to their shared living space as “her” apartment. She is determined to prove to those around here, including Don, that she doesn't need his assistance to be successful in advertising. Megan seems to embody all of the ideas associated with the change of the gender movement during this decade, and while it's still relatively mild, it's a far cry from the sexism-based torture Matthew Wiener has made the other female character go through.

The only real standout element to Megan, at least in terms of her correlation to public memory of the period, is that fact that she is so optimistic. These days, the late 60s is looked back on a time that saw a rise of jaded, cynical individuals, so it might seem to be historically inaccurate for the show to depict such a (relatively) bright and sunny person, but it's worth remembering that cynicism we associate with the period had to come from somewhere. Among all the protesting and calls for change, their was hope that these movements would actually work, and when they ultimately failed, either totally or (more often) by not enacting complete and total change, cynicism with society became rampant. It's something that Megan calls the rest of the Sterling Cooper Draper Price, which is still very much stuck in the 50s, out on (they having lived through their own disillusionment with the American Dream), but it won't be long before she, and those African-American protesters, and Peggy's dreams of a world that recognizes artistic creativity, will join them in the pessimism gutter, smirking instead of smiling.

Mad Men has long engender dramatic tension by forcing viewers to watch white men unaware of the social change that was barreling down upon them, but there's something equitable, if all together depressing, about the show's reminder that it wasn't just white men who had their social positions upended, and very few people handled the change well in the short run. Those social movers and shaker might be viewed as the victors of the decade in textbooks everywhere, but that victory comes at the cost of a whole lot of bruises and scrapes, injuries that we as a society can sometimes gloss over in our attempts to pat ourselves on the back for how far we come. There's more to the story of our society than just where we were and we we are now; the journey is also important, as rough as it might be to watch.

For now, however, all of these bright-eyes idealist merely exist as interlopers in a world where 50s-era ideas and methods still maintain a grasp, however tenuous, Yet unwelcome interlopers seems to be the key theme to “A Little Kiss”, and not just in terms of Megan and the protesters. Even within the formerly stoic walls of SCDP, we see characters shaken by the little acts and the slights of perceived insults. Everybody seems to take Megan's impulsive behavior in throwing Don a surprise birthday party as pettiness when they get their invites at the last minute, convinced they had been treated as an afterthought. Joan likewise is convinced that the firm has left her without a job because she decided to become a mother, with an ill-conceived public swipe at a rival advertising agency becoming fodder for a much bigger problem.

Elsewhere, Pete and Roger battle over the empty status symbols of power that are large offices and competent secretaries, and Lane likewise tries to prove his worth by trying to win over the affections of a random man's mistress. As much as the show has shown and interest in all of the stereotypical historical movements of the 1960s in the premiere, it does not pretend that the old standbys don't also work form a narrative angle, even if these men's social significance is dwindling. In fact, now with the show splitting its attention to other things, it's not just history that's leaving these men behind, but the show itself, and their continued struggles to maintain dominance are now longer just a story – they also serve as a metatextaul commentary on the show itself. Of course, it's only when it's danger that people hold onto power the strongest, regardless of the fact that most of it has slipped through their fingers.

The only true offense here was Harry's treatment of Megan, and it's interesting the way perception of sexism has changed at the show has progressed the series through the decade. While Harry has become more of an ass ever since becoming the company liaison to network and movie studios, that doesn't completely explain away the reaction to his behavior, which would have fit right in the advertising agency back when it was just known as Sterling Cooper. Of course, the masculine controlling bullshit about men not talking about each other's wives in such a crass manner still hold true, but that's not really what has Harry running scared. No, just a few years ago, Megan's (or any woman's) reaction to his comments, as terrible as they were, would have been far more demure, in keeping with the social norms of the time. But not Megan. She's quite a bit younger than those around her, and she's not as afraid to speak out.

And so Mad Men has entered a time that more fits with public perception of the 60s, and the timing couldn't have been better. The premiere garnered 3.5 million viewers – up to 4.4 when you factor in the immediate repeat airing – and while that's not The Walking Dead big, it's still the show's highest rated episode to date, with potential viewers most compelled to tune in thanks to the drama over contract negotiations, as well as the nice catch-up buffer provided by the show's 17-month absence. The question now stands as to whether the show can shift into this new vein with ease, and whether old viewers will still enjoy it as much as they once did.

Other Thoughts:

Why does Roger carry so much cash?

I'm sure Lane taking all of those resumes at episode's end was an empty, but I would kind of like to see what would happen if the firm hired a new secretary. Obviously they don't have the money, but that was for the most part a convenient excuse to hide their own racism.

Don calling Peggy and Henry “Morticia and Lurch” is like the show acknowledging how much the audience hates those characters. (I mean, I laughed.) So of course there going to pop up next week, just in time to deflate our happiness with the show's return, if only a little bit.

Fan reaction to Megan's song seemed fitting of the character, in that it was much more emotional than most reactions than the show usually generates, and most them were negative. (Thanks to the show's standard aloofness, I didn't really react at all.) It's interesting then that Lionsgate rolled the dice on this one and went ahead and released that performance as a single. Regardless of what the reaction is, releasing something so kitschy is never a good idea, especially for such an un-kitschy show.

Did all those ads for The Killing ruin your Mad Men buzz as much as they did mine?

2 comments:

  1. Corbin, your reviews always impress me. So many times, you manage to articulate in such an eloquent way the feelings in am throwing around in my head, and you bring an intellectual level to my watching that always stretches me. Thanks for sharing.

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  2. Thanks, man. That's the highest praise I've gotten thus far, and I appreciate it.

    Now I just have to keep operating at this level for 12 more weeks.

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