Season 5, Episode 5
“I have nothing.”
Five episodes in, and I can already tells that this is
going to be Mad Men’s most divisive season ever. Given that one could have
easily said the same thing about last season, and that show’s tend to decline
in quality as they age, this perhaps isn’t the most surprising or even
insightful comment I could make. However, I can’t help but notice that the show
has been a lot more obvious with it’s themes and symbolism so far this season,
and that it’s really starting to irritate some people. Given how much control
Matthew Weiner has over the show, it’s hard to know if he’s just lost it, if
it’s the other writers and directors who are messing things up, or if this is
all deliberate. To that end, I can't determine if Mad Men's sudden lack of subtext is either a sign of declining
quality or a piece of thematic brilliance.
Allow me to return to the season four finale, if only for
a brief while. As I stated previously, what so shocked me about that episode
was how if shed its air of aloofness and asked the audience to become
emotionally invested in the fate of Don, for however briefly. Perhaps
unsurprisingly audiences everywhere did buy into it, though that’s mostly the
affect of the show merely ramping up the previous, smaller emotional connection
that was already in place. While I originally wrote off the move as a
storytelling aberration, I’m beginning to rethink that maybe that wasn’t the
start of a new, purposeful trend of the show. Or maybe even a continuation.
Season four also contained the episode in which Don’s diary entries served as
narration (which a lot of people hated) and gave us an emotionally charged
night between Don and Peggy (which everyone loved). The point is that Mad Men seems
to be growing increasingly open with it’s emotions, and it seems to growing
concurrent with the changing decade in which it’s set.
Let’s think about this. In the early seasons, Mad Men may have been set in the
sixties, but the world it showed was still very influenced by the attitude of
the fifties. The whole point of this show has always been to watch in abject
horror as these men of power slowly lose their positions of power thanks to
circumstances beyond their control, most of time not even realizing that it’s
happening. However, the one question that the show seems to have avoided up
until now is was exactly will happen to these men once they do realize what it
happening.
This seems to be the stage at which the show is at now,
and it’s through answering that question that it’s causing fan consternation. The
show isn’t particularly wrong for waiting this long to answer, or even raise,
this question, so really any fault here for confusion should most likely be
pointed at the audience – myself included – for not realizing that was what the
show is doing. And what it’s doing in answering the question, and changing the
narrative style in order assist the process. Given the varied levels of masculinity
on this show, it should come as no surprise that the response of each of the
characters would vary. Some might remain stiff in their resolution that the
status quo will remained unchanged. Some might attempt to change along with the
times in order to remain on top. Others might fight the change at every turn. And
some might just give up on the way of living that they used to know.
Enter Pete Campbell, a man stuck between decades. As one of
the younger member of SCDP, Pete sort of straddles the line between the fifties
and sixties. Though he’s perhaps young enough that he could be embracing some
of the flashier, more creative elements of the decade, as Ken and Harry are
able to do, he can’t seem to shake his rigid fifties upbringing and allow
himself a true moment of happiness. Certainly Pete tries to be happy, but he
ultimately pursues the wrong things in order to do so.
We’ve seen Pete run the gauntlet of reactions to these
changes, some of which happened within the space of on hour. In trying to reassert
control over the home and his personal life, he takes part in a driver’s
education class – the better to limit how much time he has to spend at home and
not by being reliant on the train – and it’s there that a high school senior
captures his eye. She’s another distraction that public education affords him,
so he attempts to woo her, in that creepy Pete Campbell sort of way. Meanwhile
at home, there’s a leaky faucet, and as the one thing that Pete is sure he can
control, he goes about fixing it, if only to make one dreadfully annoying thing
in his life stop.
Pete’s attempt at both wooing the high school girl and
fixing the pipe follow roughly the same trajectory – he seems to make progress
with both, only to have them blow up in his face at a time that coincides with the
arrival of a more masculine and attractive man. In the case of the high school
girl, it’s someone who’s younger, more attractive, and age-appropriate, and in
the case of the leaky faucet, it’s someone who’s older, more attractive, and
more knowledgeable about plumbing. In either case, the loss sends Pete into
bouts of depression and self-hatred. Given the violent tone of the episode –
talks of the UT sniper, Pete’s own talk and defense of his rifle – it’s quite
possible that these struggles won’t be internalized any longer.
We’ve already seen the start of that regards to his work life.
Pete’s continued efforts to solidify and prove the worth of his position as
junior partner continues, as his recent tiffs with Roger over the office and
location of his secretaries have also shown. Still reeling from the loss of
control at home, he decides to subvert Lane’s own attempt to land an account
with Jaguar. When it turns out that Lane can connect to the man because the
client believe Lane to be in the closet, the Accounts Trio decide to take him
for a real man’s night out on the town.
But recognize that it’s actually Pete who suggests the
brothel, as he recognizes an opportunity to cheat on Trudy. He is able to
finally control a woman again, as is exemplified by the scene where he shuts
down the various scenarios the prostitute suggests for their congress. It’s the
one bedroom that Pete seems to have any control, because unlike with Trudy,
this prostitute doesn’t have Pete whipped. The encounter serves as a brief
means of escape from his boring suburban existence.
But is such an existence to be hated? Don, who for a long
time exemplifies the hyper-masculine ad man role that Pete was no doubt trying
to emulate, how consciously, has changed his own mind on the subject. Megan,
unlike Trudy, seems to make her husband happy, and Don’s not going to screw it
up. Or at least that’s what Don thinks. Pete was happy once, but Trudy couldn’t
hold his attention forever, and he’s strayed on more than one occasion.
Pete’s emasculation obviously centers the hour, and
though it’s almost shocking how much Pete we got tonight, he’s not the only man
facing changes, but one who does it in a manner that’s unseemly in regards to
the decade and how the show has operated up until this time. Unlike the ad men
he seems to emulate, Pete isn’t so good at controlling his outward emotions.
Like his contemporaries, Pete’s a bit incompatible with the frigid aloofness of
men who reached true adulthood during the fifties.
It might be weird to see the show so open about the
emotions of it character, or to present them less as subtext and more as over
text. And it’s not even Pete who the show does this to. Lane similarly is open
his emotions, whether it’s the seething resentment of his wife, beating the
shit out of Pete in the office, or kissing Joan in a moment of desperation.
This season had been about embracing the 60s style as part of the show’s aesthetic,
and it would make sense that part of that it shedding the cool, aloof attitude
that the show is known for, and embracing something more real. In order to
reinforce the impact of the decade, the show is mirroring it.
Quotes and Other Thoughts:
Speaking of violent imagery in tonight’s episode,
we see Don scribbling a picture of a noose, and he uses the phrase “rather blow
my brains out” in regards to Pete and Trudy’s party. Discuss, keeping in mind
that last week, Don dreamed about killing a woman.
I feel like the gag about nobody being able to
remember Ken’s wife’ name is a comment about how nobody in the fan community
can seem to remember either. I just refer to her as “Alex Mack” in my notes.
“I don’t know if you are aware, but England won
the World Cup.” “Cup of what?”
“Look: Superman.”
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