EDITOR'S NOTE: Abundant intelligent movie references were what first prompted the "Mad Men at the Movies" series. Though this series finale had no movie references, the great series' best episodes, hell even its minor ones, have had the richness of cinema both visually and thematically. That said, I personally enjoyed the unprovoked flashback to Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice (1969) a fitting companion film to see this week, for many reasons: its time period, its troubled romances, self-discovery retreats, and especially its gorgeously sly double-sided satiric/genuine "EPIPHANY!" and hippie-love musical finale. Here's new contributor Lynn Lee to wrap up as we raise our glasses (of Coke naturally) to the greatest TV show of all time - Nathaniel
It’s been less than 24 hours since the series finale of “Mad Men” aired and a vigorous debate is already raging over the last few minutes of it. What, we wonder, was the meaning of the cut from Don’s closed eyes and beatific smile to the classic 1971 Coke commercial that introduced “I’d like to buy the world a Coke”?
Is this where Don’s inspiration leads – back to McCann and Coca-Cola’s signature advertising hook? Or is the juxtaposition an ironic commentary on the enlightenment he thinks he’s found? Or is it a non-ironic contrast between the enlightenment he truly has found and the ersatz version that Coke would peddle as a substitute for the real thing?
The only definite answer is that there is no definite answer, although there have certainly been plenty of clues. We’ve seen repeated references to Coke even after Don left McCann. The commercial itself contains unmistakable echoes of his experience at the hippie retreat, from the elaborate, very “Mad Men”-ish metaphor of the refrigerator in sad Leonard’s dream to the red-ribboned braids of the hippie receptionist. Put together with Don’s history of leaving and, as Roger and Stan both point out, always coming back, I’d put the odds at ~ 75% in favor of his being the man behind the commercial (which historically was, in fact, created by McCann Erickson). But assuming that he is, what does it mean?
You spend your whole life thinking you’re not getting it, people aren’t giving it to you. Then you realize they’re trying and you don’t even know what it is.”
Don’s breakthrough vis-à-vis sad Leonard suggests recognition that he’s been looking at himself and his life the wrong way all along. Like Leonard, his fear that he doesn’t deserve love has blinded him to the love that’s actually offered him. The big question is how he uses this epiphany: to let go of his fear and become truly open to love, or to do what he’s always been best at—channeling that moment of genuine emotion into the false promise of advertising?
It’s not out of the realm of possibility that both of these outcomes could be true simultaneously. The episode, titled “Person to Person,” is structured around three calls Don places to the three women in his life. The first two show him continuing to search in vain for a sign he’s needed, as they drop not only the bombshell of Betty’s cancer but the even bigger bombshell that it changes nothing about his relationship with them. It’s not that they don’t love Don; they just don’t want anything more than what they’ve learned to expect from him.
Their rejection sends Don on his umpteenth bender and, as I predicted, one last trip to California, where he seeks out Stephanie—his last living reminder of Anna, the only woman whose love absolved him from guilt rather than adding to it. Stephanie rejects the familial gesture, but seeing his suffering, takes him to a place she thinks may be able to help both of them. However, she rejects him again when, in her most vulnerable moment, he offers her his Don Draper-patented advice to put her guilt behind her. It’s the same advice he gave Peggy so many years ago. But it rings false now, and he knows it. It doesn’t even work for himself anymore.
And that’s when he makes his third phone call—to Peggy. She doesn’t give him what he’s looking for, either, at least not at first. She doesn’t know what to make of his sins, and she’s too honest to tell him that either she or McCann needs him to succeed. But she wants him to come back and believes he has a place there (“Don’t you want to work on Coke?”). Even though it doesn’t register at the time with Don, who’s in his darkest hour, it may be the lifeline that ultimately draws him back to advertising. If so, the takeaway isn’t necessarily that Don doesn’t change. It’s more complicated than that. Don may not change, but he does learn. And if nothing else, he may have learned to accept who he is, a theme that holds true for the other characters as well.
Going into the finale, I half-expected it would be devoted exclusively to Don. But I’m glad it wasn’t. I didn’t know I needed any of those other final tie-ups until they happened. I loved the pairing of Pete’s farewell to Peggy with Roger’s visit to Joan and Kevin—both scenes richly layered with their respective histories, tinged with just the right amount of tenderness and the faintest whisper of melancholy over what might have been, yet untainted by any bitterness over what actually was. I don’t know which was lovelier, Pete’s giving Peggy the cactus (a perfect symbol for both of them) and telling her what he once wanted someone to say to him, or Joan’s expression when she gently teases Roger about finally getting his timing right.
I was also glad to see Joan finally become the independent businesswoman we always knew she could be. For the first time in her life, she’s calling her own shots, and if it means flying solo, she’s ok with that. Which is why I wasn’t surprised that Peggy turned down her offer of a partnership—and, after my initial giddiness at the thought of “Harris Olson,” I wasn’t sorry, either. Much as those two respect each other, they’ve rarely been on exactly the same page because their professional experience has been so dramatically different. Holloway Harris is right for Joan, just as McCann is right for Peggy, at least for now.
And with McCann, Stan! That ending did take me by surprise. This isn’t the first time Stan’s copped to having feelings for Peggy, but she just never seemed interested. To be honest, I was content with the platonic BFF dynamic they developed. Peggy’s romantic eureka felt like fan service (except I don’t think Matthew Weiner does fan service) and more like “When Harry Met Sally” than “Mad Men.” But then, I’ve always loved “When Harry Met Sally,” and even if this wasn’t the ending I’d have chosen for Peggy and Stan, I can’t begrudge it to them. They deserve to be happy together.
Random observations:
-Don’s last phone conversation with Betty: devastating. Those two in many ways have had the most complicated and interesting relationship on the show, and Jon Hamm and January Jones have played so well off each other.
-Almost as heartbreaking: Sally and Bobby trying to fill in their parents’ roles in the kitchen. (That had to be the most lines, and most interesting lines, Bobby ever had in the entire series.)
-Doesn't Stephanie look a little like a grown-up Sally?
-Adieu, Richard. I liked him, even at the end. It’s easy to dismiss his exit as a sexist refusal to take a backseat to a woman’s career, but I give him credit for being honest about what he wants and understanding why it’s at odds with what Joan wants.
Line of the week:
“OMMMMMMMM”