At last we return our central focus to Peggy and Pete, though separately leading their own lives and building their own respective personal empires. The latest episode of "Mad Men" gives new definition to poetic nuance, with an emotional complexity that keeps adding colors to a palette that continues to push to higher ground.
Things are certainly looking up for Pete, who after being tasked with personally dumping his father-in-law’s account (Ponds saw Dad’s Clearasil as a conflict) finds out through Trudy's father that she's pregnant. Beyond elated at the news, he puts off the business execution for the upcoming family pot roast dinner - a move that intensifies pressure on all involved in the Ponds deal.
Of course, we know something this giddy father-to-be doesn't: he's already got a child, with Peggy.
Peggy, an episode centerpiece and ever-intensifying character, kicks off the episode by making a new friend named Joyce in the elevator - a masculine sort of girl who appears quite taken with the copyrighter.
Peggy relishes the flirtation, but only in fun (she actually kisses a smitten stranger in a closet during a police raid). They soon become more Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote than friends, with Peggy being actively pursued as she tags along to Warhol-esque illegal indulgence & art parties. After she rejects Joyce's advances mid-toke, the following hilarious exchange takes place:
"I'm hungry"
"I have a boyfriend."
"He doesn't own your vagina."
"No, but he's renting it."
Peggy's ability to roll with the punches, her excitement for the unknown in her new life of confidence, is a captivating device for the evolution of the show. Case in point: at the party she's given a crash course in the value of artistic principle and integrity over revenue and commercialization from pretentious artist Davey Kellogg, giving us a hint that her social curiosity will prove massively valuable as the '60s counterculture movement takes hold. Her self-made confidence, not reliant upon a man's approval, results in a vivacious freedom of spirit that could be the company's saving grace when the suited silhouettes start their skyscraper swan dives to the streets of Madison Avenue, lost in a world in which they've rapidly become antiquated and despised.
Popular peripheral characters return when Pete accompanies Harry Crane (Rich Sommer) to lunch with his rival from the former Sterling Cooper office, Ken Cosgrove (Aaron Staton). It's heartbeats before Pete and Ken are going at it over rumors about what one has been saying about the other behind his back, but in his bout of impending-fatherhood enlightenment, Pete apologizes and extends a proverbial olive branch. Ken later raised the idea of Pete leaving SCDP for a more lucrative firm, and we get the impression it was a blatant seed-planting for future narrative prospects.
Later back home for "pot roast night" with the in-laws, Pete breaks the news he'd been putting off when the ladies retreat to the kitchen. It's not the sheepish shoegazing letdown we were prepared for, however; Trudy's father soon found himself strong armed into committing the rest of his company’s massive Vicks business to SCDP. This leap of acquisition returns Pete to a highly valuable place in the company, and even Don can't help but be impressed (though his congratulations don't exceed a scant "Keep it up.").
Don's lovelorn secretary Allison is asked to take part in an in-office focus group for Pond’s Cold Cream to get a lock on how to pitch the product, which she knows is being monitored by Freddy, Peggy and Don through a one-way mirror. The focus group's sociopathic leader, Faye Miller, beguiles the participating secretaries into letting their professional guard down and discussing personal issues, one of which resonates too strongly with Allison; she runs from the room in tears.
What happens next is a catalyst for introspection for all characters involved. Peggy follows after to comfort her, resulting in Allison spilling the beans on her night with Don. To her surprise, Peggy has no sympathy for her whatsoever, and it's not because Allison had assumed that she'd experienced the same situation. Remember, Peggy had a baby, one nobody knows about, as a result of an office fling.
Speaking of Peggy and babies, she's clearly more affected than she would like to be by the fact that Pete and Trudy are expecting, and one of the most meaningful moments of the entire series occurs as Peggy was approaching the elevator with her new beatnik friends, on their way to lunch. She looks over at Pete, watching with a distant sadness, and when he looks over and their eyes lock, a depth of reflection and muzzled affection bleeds through the gaze and says far more than we've witnessed in all the episodes since their affair ended combined. They're grownups now, the both of them, and they're both respected players in a company whose future looks brighter by the day. But the knowing glances of affectionate regret give the hinted smiles on both ends an air of sadness, and it's his eyes that follow her as she disappears into the elevator.
Funny, how suddenly we find ourselves rooting for new narrative blood between a formerly reviled character and a girl who, not so long ago, was a breathing embodiment of the homely office wallflower.
It's not long before the shattered and exposed Allison confronts Don directly, and his cold, professional reaction causes her to quit immediately. Her only request is that Don write her a letter of recommendation, which he agrees to, even suggesting that she write whatever she wants and he’ll sign it. Naturally, anyone who's spent more than fifteen minutes with the fairer sex can tell you that that response was likely worse than a "no". She throws a metal ball at his head, smashing frames as he dodges the projectile. “You are not a good person!” she screams, storming out.
The moment appears to strike a cord within Don (he pathetically rushes to fill a drink the moment she leaves, with Peggy spying on from the next room), and later he's seen arriving home and sitting down at the typewriter. He begins to write a letter of apology and explanation to Allison, but anyone familiar with Mr. Draper by now knows at a glance that that letter was never going to be finished, much less delivered. And so, in true Don Draper fashion, he crumples the paper and goes back to the bottle.
It's beginning to look like no upswing can truly hold in Don's life.
Special mention goes to John Slattery, who directed this episode with a cinematic flare and subtle, searing nuances.
Check out my previous "Mad Men" episode recaps from Season 4 below.
Review: Mad Men 4.07 'The Suitcase'
Review: Mad Men 4.06 'Waldorf Stories'
Review: Mad Men 4.05 'The Chrysanthemum and the Sword'
Review: Mad Men 4.03 'The Good News'
Review: Mad Men 4.02 'Thank You For Bringing My Keys'
Review: Mad Men 4.01 'Public Relations'
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