Do not read on unless you have seen the seventh episode of “Mad Men’s” final season, “Waterloo,” which also serves as the show’s 2014 finale (it returns with seven episodes in 2015).
We all know that when a “Mad Men” episode is heavy on business intrigue and office politics, it’s usually a winner, but even by that standard, “Waterloo” may have been entirely too much fun. Jim Cutler pulled his big moves, and you know what? The late Bert Cooper was not Napoleon in this episode, Cutler was. The man with the big glasses overplayed his hand and he ended up with very little to show for it. Speaking of Bert Cooper, what just happened?! Did he just do a song-and-dance number with a group of prancing secretaries? I do believe that actually did happen. All righty then! “Mad Men,” never stop surprising me!
I’ll write more about what Don’s vision of Bert meant in a moment (spoiler alert: He wants Don to be free), but first, a question: Why does the moon orbit the Earth?
Now, you may think that I’ve been watching a lot of “Cosmos” lately (and you are correct). Of course, we know the answer to that question, but for thousands of years, people didn’t know. They came up with conjectures, ideas and myths — they crafted various kinds of stories. Some of those stories are great, some are a little loony, but, obviously, the truth is that gravity binds these two bodies together. We can’t see gravity, we can’t taste it or touch it, but, among other amazing things it can do, it can make enormous objects that are otherwise separated by vast stretch of icy space influence each other in multiple ways. The Earth and the moon are bound by invisible bonds — they are cosmically connected, forever.
As are Don and Peggy.
There were twin sources of driving tension in this episode: Would the astronauts make it back from the moon, and would SC&P land the Burger Chef account? Both of these things mattered greatly, and yet, they also didn’t matter.
Of course, everyone wanted the astronauts to come home safely (and kudos to “Mad Men” for threading that storyline with genuine suspense and excitement, even though we knew the outcome of the astronauts’ return). The thing is, whether or not their re-entry went perfectly, the astronauts had still accomplished something historic, something truly awe-inspiring. The astronauts (and the NASA teams behind them) had put human beings on the moon — an important symbolic step for the maturation of our species.
That accomplishment would always stand, regardless of what happened afterward. The same is true of another enormous but more personal landmark — the maturation of Don Draper.
Think about all the things that happened to Don before that pitch meeting with Burger Chef. His wife decided that their marriage was over. It had been over in all but name for some time, but just before leaving for Indiana, he got the final death notice from Megan. For Don Draper, here was another failed attempt at intimacy and commitment.
On the work front, Bert Cooper died. He and Don weren’t close, but he’d had Don’s back enough times for it to matter, and Don felt bad for Roger and everyone else who cared about the old coot. And of course, Cooper’s death altered the balance of power inside the agency, something that Cutler didn’t even wait 30 seconds to point out (this week in Lou is the worst: Lou is not actually the worst — that honor this week goes to the odious Cutler). When he got that call from a distraught Roger, Don had every reason to believe that all that he had worked to regain was now gone. He’d have to start over again, with no wife, no allies like Roger and Peggy in the background, no real friends to rally around him. He was as isolated as we’ve ever seen him.
So what did Don do at this very low point? How’s this for momentous: He didn’t pull a Don Draper. He didn’t hobo out to the Coast or make some other self-destructive decision. In a miraculous development, he didn’t think much about himself at all. He made a strategic and personal decision — in the wee, small hours, he decided on a course of action that makes sense from several different perspective. He saw that mission to its completion in a selfless and focused way. He helped Peggy deal with her nerves, he made her believe in herself and he made damn sure the pitch meeting went as well as humanly possible.
This is connection. For Don, this is landing on the moon.
What is true connection but an ability to see someone else’s point of view? What is connection but a desire to put someone else’s needs or a larger goal first? Don didn’t need to let Peggy land the account. He could have gone out on top and garnered the Burger Chef account as a final “screw you” to everyone on Team Cutler. But he didn’t do that. In one of his darkest hours, he didn’t fall down a rabbit hole of self-absorption and pain. He didn’t crawl into a bottle and drown in narcissistic angst. On his way out the door — which is where he thought he was headed — he tried to help his protégée attain a meaningful achievement. He got nothing from that, aside from a powerful rush of pride.
To me, the center of the episode was the look that passed between Don and Peggy when she stood up at the end of her pitch. Don knew she had nailed it, and she knew it too. Don may not be much of a husband or father, let’s face it, but he knows how to do the thing that Peggy just did, and sharing that moment with her — a moment of real and well-earned triumph — was sweet indeed. A collective effort at NASA got men on the moon, and a team effort at SC&P had brought them all to this point, but Don and Peggy were the ones who set foot on that spectacular terrain.
Don and Peggy have orbited each other forever, exerting strong influences on each other; she started out as the satellite and then he took that role, but none of that really matters now. As we saw last week and saw again this week, that connection is more tangible and real than ever. Don didn’t give Peggy talent — she always had it — but he helped her hone it, he pushed her, he toughened her and he made sure that when the moment came, she nailed the pitch. And she taught him too — about friendship, loyalty and persistence. They love each other in all the ways that matter. Like gravity, you can’t see that love, but it’s undeniably there. Don Draper, Dick Whitman — it doesn’t matter. He’s no longer an asteroid, floating through the cold darkness of space on his own, and he knows it. They both do.
Don also knows that there will always be office machinations — it’s just unavoidable during these tumultuous times. But does the end result have to be selling out to McCann? Unlikely. The moon, Bert crooned to Don, belongs to everyone. Why can’t a new firm — one begun by SC&P refugees — belong to everyone he cares about? “The best things in life are free,” apparently, and Don really wants to be free, once and for all.
Coming on top of a generally wonderful episode, Bert’s shoeless dance number was icing on one tasty cake, but it also set up the final run of episodes quite efficiently. Don could accept the large sum of money on the table and sell out to corporate overlords, or he could take off in a rocket to the moon — a risky journey, of course, but he’d have Peggy, Roger and possibly even Pete by his side. Let’s face it, Cutler’s technocratic beliefs and even Roger’s practical/desperate machinations don’t truly constitute vision. Don and Peggy have that — can they also be leaders? We’ll see.
I wouldn’t be against those two. But we will have to wait until 2015 for the answer to all these questions, and that makes me sad. As many have observed — even creator Matthew Weiner made this point — the show generally pulls off a big series of moves at about the mid-point of a typical 13-episode season.
In this 14-episode final season, the show stayed true to form by doing just that kind of thing in the seventh episode, but it’s likely that nearly a year will elapse before we see the end to this series of personal and professional machinations. AMC has done “Mad Men” no favors by stretching out the exit of a show that thrives on ambiguity and atmosphere. “Mad Men” typically marinates in certain themes and ideas before turning on the heat in the home stretch, and that wait between half-seasons will drain a lot of the momentum out of the show’s final run. But it is what it is, and we’ll have to deal with it.
As it happened, there was a lot to savor in this lovely yet energetic episode: We got a vintage Don Draper pitch (he was very smart in the way he reeled in Ted Chaough, who sure seems clinically depressed at the moment); we got a couple of subtle and evocative reminders that Peggy is indeed a mother; and I just loved the series of family tableaux that constituted the lyrical middle section of the episode. It was a brilliant visual representation of the Burger Chef “family supper” pitch: Roger, Mona, their son in law and grandson were an odd kind of family, and yet they shared the wonder of the day together. Betty’s family and her friend’s brood represented a range of viewpoints and ages, but in the end, Sally didn’t kiss the cynical athlete, she kissed the nerdy boy who made her feel a bond with something beautiful. Ted, Roger, Julio, Sally and of course, Don — they were all looking for connections, for bonds that weren’t just practical but emotional.
Numbers, data, surgical accuracy: That’s what Cutler advocated, and that’s the kind of cold, precise science that NASA workers had to use to make the moon shot work. But the journey to the moon wasn’t just about trajectories, angles and engineering calculations: It was a story people told themselves (with help from Neil Armstrong’s memorable pitch: “That’s one small step for man, one giant step for mankind.”).
“Mad Men’s” particular kind of humanism — one that loves individuals and outliers and emotional connections more than insiders, blowhards and data mavens — was all over “Waterloo.” And the moon landing was a brilliant vehicle for that kind of collective resonance and personal accomplishment. What this episode was after was a sense of wonder, and who wouldn’t feel that after seeing Don Draper act like a normal, compassionate, responsible human being. For once, Houston, we did not have a problem.
Cutler’s the only one who couldn’t see that there’s only so much you can do with number crunching and data. People want to be moved, and they were moved by the moon landing — in part, as Peggy noted, because everyone who watched it shared the same range of emotions.
Of course people enjoyed that story of progress and wonder– they’d been starving for it.
A final hail of bullets and favorite lines:
- First things first: Ryan McGee and I will be recording a podcast with a very special guest on Monday. Around midday Monday, check the Talking TV page or on iTunes (Once it’s ready, I’ll also add the podcast to the bottom of this post).
- Not only did Bobby break out his telescope, Megan had a telescope on her patio in California. What does this mean? Did Sharon Tate own a telescope??! #telescopetruthers
- It looked to me as though Bert Cooper owned a Pollock. Cooper, you magnificent bastard, you!
- “We don’t owe you anything. You’re a hired hand! Get back to work.”
- In an episode stuffed with memorable moments, Meredith’s awkward attempt to seduce Don was hiii-larious. That moment was also a subtle reminder of Don’s change of status: These days, he’s just another guy at the office without a huge amount of mystique; women aren’t throwing themselves at him on a regular basis, not during work hours anyway. Only the dumbest human that SC&P employs would try to “comfort” Don in that particular way, and he’s way too smart (and/or not desperate enough) for that.
- “What if it’s quicksand?”
- “Should I reschedule?” “Get OUT!”
- Excellent work in the final phone-call breakup between Don and Megan. Jessica Pare infused one simple word — “Don.” — will many layers of meaning, and few people do sad/hurt face better than Jon Hamm. Did you also notice that he was tearing up a little after Bert’s dance routine? He’s going to miss that shoeless elf.
- “Take off your shoes.” “I don’t feel like it!”
- “Marriage is a racket!”
- I’m going to side with “Mad Men”/”Mad Style” bloggers Tom and Lorenzo regarding the development of Joan of late. I don’t think the show has done a good enough job of showing two things: Why she is so anti-Don, and why she is so mercenary these days. Both those things appear to be linked and they’ve practically been the only notes she’s gotten to play, though as we saw last week, she still very much believes in love and genuine relationships. For many seasons, she and Don got along fine, and though I know she’s eager to hang on to the status and partnership she now enjoys, her hostility to Don this season has never been properly explained, in my view. It’s kind of sad, because I think she’s an interesting character, but, on the work front anyway, there hasn’t been enough about her of late to offset the view of her as ruthless toward her once-respected co-worker.
- Sally stands, stares and smokes just like Don.
- Roger taking the nameplate from Bert’s office was just the right touch — sad, subtle and, in a way, momentous as well. Note the real emotion in his voice when he said, “Now I’m going to lose you too!” to Don. Roger’s the eternally irresponsible jester, but it’s nice to get these reminders that he feels things deeply.
- “We have no liquor!”
- The pitch scene did a great job of getting us inside Peggy’s head; she was so preoccupied and afraid that everything was just reverberating noise to her. Side note: She looked terrific in that scene. Her crisp blue and green dress and her bold red lipstick were just perfect.
- I loved the shot of the SC&P team in the motel, rapt by the moon landing. There was such genuine interest and sincere delight on their faces. “Mad Men” can get grim and dark, but when it lets itself be optimistic, few other shows can touch it.
- “Cooper still dead?”
- “Cutler’s not going to stop until the firm is just Harry and the computer.”
- The running gag of Harry not really being a partner has never gotten old.
- “Really.” “It’s a lot of money!”
- In a season that hasn’t been as .gif intensive as I would like, I hope many different images of Bert dancing around Sterling Cooper are up before morning. I’d bet half the reason that Weiner did the song-and-dance scene is because actor Robert Morse is a Broadway veteran, and Weiner just couldn’t let him leave the show without taking advantage of a few of those skills. And why not?
- Thanks to everyone who has read these weekly “Mad Men” reviews — I am truly appreciative of the fact that you stopped by, and I hope we can all reconvene here next year.
Entertainment – The Huffington Post
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