In my escapades into pop culture, Mad Men has struck me more than just about anything
Mad Men is a show that's had a lot of things said about it. And why not? It's unlike anything else on television. In a Golden Era filled with meth cooks, drug dealers, spies, and medieval naked people, it stands alone in the sense that no one is really doing anything illegal. The characters interact in a framework that doesn't create drama by breaking the law. The plot, when it's there, creeps around while it explores all the corners, until some catalyst comes along and shoots everything into a jumbled mess. The best description that I've heard of the show is that it's a collection of short stories about the characters. Large gaps of time go missing, major characters disappear for episodes at a time, and the tone and pacing change as much as the facial hair. Detail is immaculate. Every camera angle or background prop has a place in Weiner's tapestry of what it was like to be on Madison Avenue.
As far as pilots go, this is one of the best that I've ever seen. It hits all the right notes-- it's sexy, it introduces the characters in clear terms, but allows them to grow, it sets the environment with shocking confidence. Mad Men goes on to establish itself as one of the most confident shows on TV, and in its earlier run, most of that has to do with Don Draper. He's on top of his game for most of this episode-- pulling out brilliant ideas on the fly, putting subordinates in their place, gently chastising new employees. He struggles with coming up with his idea for a cigarette campaign-- the meeting with the tobacco executives is brutal for him until the advertising gods smack him over the head. He offends the head of a department store with his singular vision. And to further throw his character into morally dubious territory, he's cheating on his wife. This is another one of the pilot's strengths-- it's able to seamlessly weave new revelations and developments into the story without feeling forced. Pete calls on Peggy? It works. Peggy, the shy secretary, gets birth control? It makes sense.
Don, Pete, and Peggy are the three main characters in the pilot. Their perspectives (established, on the come-up, and brand new) make Sterling Cooper the fascinating place that it is. Don rubs shoulders with clients, drinking and making innocuous chatter. He brushes off a PhD because he simply doesn't believe what she has to say. And he triumphs. He has it all, but he's not going to relent. He's ambitious, but he doesn't look it, he just looks so damn good at not trying that it's pissing poor Pete Campbell off.
Pete has to insert himself into every situation possible just to get noticed. He hasn't realized that this isn't always in his benefit, and this leads to a great scene where Don lays out a dire future for him if he doesn't stop trampling everything in his path just to get ahead. The frustration over his lack of power culminates when he calls on a girl he had previously derided for her physical shortcomings. Pete isn't sure of what he is, and while talented, his ambition almost swallows him whole in this episode. Mad Men is a show about desires, and Pete is one of the most honest about what exactly it is that he wants. This is clever writing on Weiner's part, and it becomes more evident as the series moves on.
Peggy is brand new, which puts her at a very different place than Pete and Don. Then there's the other obvious difference--she's a woman in a man's world. Joan's office tour is one of my favorite things in the episode. Joan controls her world as much as she can, and she tells Peggy exactly what she needs to do in order to do the same. Joan is the perfect mentor, but Peggy doesn't follow her advice to a T, and that gets her in trouble when she makes some inappropriate advances on Don. They would have worked on almost anyone else in the office, but this is Don Draper, the handsome enigma with a purple heart. Who knows what goes on in his head? Is Peggy going to have sex just because it's what's expected of her? There was at least an inkling of passion in the scene with her and Pete. Elizabeth Moss is fantastic as a timid woman who reveals moments of mystery, even if it's only with a glimpse or smile.
My favorite scene of the episode is the dinner between Don and Rachel. Yes, Don's quasi-philosophical thoughts are intriguing. They made me challenge my ideals and my actions. Am I doing this just because it's expected of me? Why do people act in certain ways? If that's all that it is, it's a beautiful scene. But this is Don Draper. I have no idea if Don fully believes what he's saying. Why is he saying it? Does he want to mend his cracked reputation? Get Rachel in bed? Seal the deal with their respective businesses? Jon Hamm sells the hell out of the character. Every look and facial tick is measured and thrown into a Draper equation of effectiveness. In the quick glances of the pilot, it appears he wants two things: clients and sex. A few key scenes add some depth: the dinner scene, him sharing a quiet moment with his Purple Heart, a tender kiss with his wife. The series asks the question: who the hell is Don Draper? He's one of the most enigmatic leads a drama has ever had, and his ups and downs are a mirror into a country torn apart by social change.
I did have a few minor complaints with the episode. It was very willing to show how racist and misogynistic the time period was, and while this was necessary, it turned into a theme park attraction at some points (although I did laugh at them finding a Jewish guy in the mail room, and Don thinking he was the Menken's exec). The music of the episode was also overly eager to provide anachronism. I would have been fine with only the opening and closing scenes having music, but maybe I'm a minimalist.
Final Grade: A-
I'll continue with this, and hopefully edit better in the future. I recognize that it's a bit of a mess as is, but I'm a neophyte to this. I used that word mostly to prove that I'm smart. And with that last sentence, honest.
