Every week for the sixth season of AMC's acclaimed series Mad Men, our roundtable of Eleanor Barkhorn (Sexes editor, TheAtlantic.com), Ashley Fetters (editorial fellow for TheAtlantic.com's Entertainment and Sexes channels), and Amy Sullivan (National Journal correspondent) will discuss the latest happenings at Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce.
Barkhorn: Right up until the last 20 minutes or so, I thought this week's episode of Mad Men was going to be mainly about work. There was the jovial Ocean Spray debrief with Ted, Peggy, and Pete; the subsequent miscommunication with the rest of the SC&P staff and Cutler's (hilarious) scolding of Ted for writing too many memos; Ted's wife's confession that she wished he enjoyed his homelife as much as he cherishes time at the office. Even Mitchell's draft scare looked like it was going to be merely a plot device to get Don and Ted to call a truce in their professional war.
But the last few scenes turned the episode into a Freudian field day—a seeming confirmation of his theory that sexual longing is just below the surface of everything we do. First we discover that the reason Bob Benson has been so hard-working, so eager to please around the office all season, is not because he wants to keep his job or get promoted, but because he's in love with Pete Campbell. Bob's pass at Pete was shocking not because it revealed he's attracted to men—the show has long been hinting that he has some sort of secret—but that the object of his affection is Pete. PETE. Pete, whose own mother called him unlovable. I would love to sit Bob down and ask him what he sees in Pete, though I wonder how much longer he'll be working at SC&P. If Pete got his mom's nurse fired for what he felt were inappropriate romantic overtures, should we expect he'll do the same to Bob? I also admit to a bit of disappointment that after all the theories about the mysterious Bob Benson—He's in the CIA! He's a journalist! He's a murderer! He's Don Draper!—this was the big reveal. Making an awkward pass at your co-worker is basically a rite of passage at SC&P (remember the time Peggy put her hand on Don's?), so this development makes Bob seem more, not less, ordinary. (Except, again, for the Pete thing. Why Pete?)
Then, of course, there was the horrifying primal scene where Sally, trying to intercept a love note to her cute neighbor, sees her father having sex with her cute neighbor's mother. The scene is particularly striking because it's the most explicit depiction of sex we've seen on the series so far (at least that I can recall). Yes, the scene was quite short, but it shows Don partly naked, on top of Sylvia, in the middle of intercourse. Sally's never seen her father in this state, and though we've watched Don sleep with plenty of women, it's never been so clearly right in the middle of the act.
All three of them are, of course, distraught. Sylvia cries, punches the bed, and yanks at her shirt like a character in a Greek tragedy. Sally flees and hops into a cab; Don tries to go after her but cannot find his way. He stands in the lobby, pacing back and forth, unsure whether to go outside or back upstairs. Eventually, inevitably he ends up at a bar, then back home, where Sally first cannot look him in the eye but then yells, "You make me sick." I'm not sure I've ever been more angry with Don as a character than when he tried to feed Sally the line about "comforting Mrs. Rosen." Don's whole life is built on deception, of course, and he's lied many, many times before...but the audacity to lie to his daughter about something she very plainly saw? That seems like the lowest of a long, long, long line of Don's lows. And it seems to demonstrate that Don's goal is keeping the peace—making sure Megan and Arnold and everyone else remain dumb about his affair—rather than seeking his daughter's forgiveness. Poor Sally responds with a half-hearted "okay," because what else can she do? Her father was her hero, the only person who, in her own words, "supports my dreams."
This episode's dramatic last third was exciting, of course, and hopefully satisfying for people who've complained that this season is too slow. But I wish the episode really had been primarily about work—that we'd gotten more insight about Ted's workaholism, about the tensions and dysfunctions and jealousies within SC&P, about Cutler's philosophy on memos. The scandalous stuff at the end felt to me more like a soap opera, and not an especially original or enjoyable one.
What did you guys think? Did you like the drama of this episode, or was it too much? What do you think the repercussions will be for Pete and Bob, and for the Drapers and the Rosens? And what were your favorite scenes from the first part of the episode?
Fetters: Oh, boy. True that, on the histrionics of the last third of the episode. In truth, it was a little much for me; I can only deal with Sally Draper's life getting ruined so many times. But I did think the earlier portion of this week's show had a few standout moments.