Mad Men: Don's Coterie of Women, All Mirrors for His Sad Existence
EntertainmentIt’s so satisfying, as we wrap up the final episodes of Mad Men, to realize that Don was simply the moral barometer, and the show was about its women all along: Joan, Peggy, Megan, Dawn, even Caroline, Roger Sterling’s nerdy secretary. The ’50s and early ’60s crawled by, entrenched power moving tectonically—so slow as to be imperceptible—and embodied by the cartoon towers of Madison Avenue, as well as Don Draper’s stupid hats. Now that we’re in 1970, it’s clear how swiftly everything has shifted, and how the avalanche began right about the time Megan decided she was going to quit being a secretary to pursue acting. Megan has always been emblematic of the new era—full of youth and defiance—but at this point even old-world Betty is making liberated career decisions, her intent to become a psychologist based on self-delusion but intent nonetheless. Imagine, though, having Betty as a shrink? Definitely get a reference from Sally before enlisting her services.
After Betty tells Don she’s going back to college, Don’s look of longing as he leaves the Francis residence says it all: Henry, Betty, Bobby and whatever their other son is called, all gathered in the kitchen, the family unit Don has lost twice now. The terribly outdated suburban décor underscores that this scene is a rarity now—divorce is de rigueur these days, as Megan tells her fuddy-duddy sister—but then again, there’s Don getting along with everyone, making chocolate milkshakes in the blender surely as it was his own home.
But wait: since when does Don hang out at the Francis residence? Some people have a theory that the surrealism of these episodes is Don living in an alternate universe—though, please miss me with the reaching idea that Mad Men is Lost—and that poor, beautiful Megan may already be dead. Suggested clues: the wine on his carpet as blood symbol, the Sharon Tate lookalike who spills it, the discovery of Megan’s earring, and Megan’s annoying mom’s insistence that he “ruined our family.” Don’s silly secretary, mentioning “the Manson brothers,” the first reference to Charles and them, though it’s 1970; Sharon Tate’s long gone, and the family is already in custody, their trial set for June. (Last week’s episode was set in April 1970, per the Nixon speech Don watched on his little TV.) All that’s for Megan-as-Sharon Draper truthers, though, and seems far too simplistic an explanation for my impulses—if Mad Men learned anything at all from Lost, let’s hope it’s that the “and then they woke up!” finale is the fastest way to take a giant shit upon your legacy.