Nov 3, 2009
Mad Men: The Grassy Knoll
This essay is part of “Point-Hyperpoint: Mad Men,” a rollicking series of posts devoted to discussing AMC’s drama series. Spoilers abound. To read the entire series, please visit this page. To see all of Plasma Pool’s “Point-Hyperpoint” discussions, please click here.
This week’s Mad Men broke one of the unwritten rules of art by spending a lot of time showing people watching TV. In a way, there was no way to get around this — people were glued to their TV sets when in the aftermath of the Kennedy assassination, so it’s difficult to dramatize it in any other way. But if you agree with the opinion of internet TV supercritic Todd VanDerWerff, it’s always boring to watch someone watching something, like a worse version of watching another person play video games.
If this were a movie, I’d generally agree (exceptions include cases like Videodrome where the act of viewing is integral to the development of the character and plot), but TV shows work somewhat differently. Because a series progresses without a fixed endpoint (except in cases like Lost where the network announces a date), there is time for a show to explore its proverbial studio space and just observe its characters being themselves in undramatic situations. The best example I can think of in favor of this view is the third season of Deadwood, which is often at its best when characters have conversations about nothing directly related to the plot.
Plus, as I said a few months ago when we began these discussions about Mad Men, this is a show that excels when very little happens. Watching Betty or Pete or Sally watch the news is an extreme case of observing a character, but it’s a style of narrative very much in line with the show’s m.o.
It’s been said that the Kennedy assassination grinded the season’s plot to a halt, which seems like a logical statement when you consider that the penultimate episode is usually a season’s climax. (Note: This is a hallmark of all the best HBO-style dramas. Fuck True Blood and its dumbass cliffhangers.) But what exactly was supposed to happen in this episode that didn’t happen? Don and Betty’s situation progressed, with Betty essentially deciding she hates Don. (I predict she will change her mind soon enough.) We saw more of Peggy’s gross affair with Duck, who hilariously put off worrying about the president’s death so he could have sex for the first time in three weeks. Roger Sterling’s life continued to devolve into a morass of booze and pining after Joan. Pete became further disenchanted with his job. Etc.
Even when people just watched TV, there were still interesting developments. Sally and Bobby watched without fully understanding what was on the screen, but Don and Betty’s reluctance to tear them away from the set is likely their best bit of parenting in the show’s run. Pete’s refusal to go to the Sterling wedding was simultaneously immature and adult in that it’s one of the few times he’s stood up for himself. And everything at the wedding was a wonderful mix of black comedy and horror.
One intersting thing about this episode is that it made this season seem more scattered than it may have with a different type of episode. We still have next week’s finale to consider, but it appears as if Season 3 doesn’t have a clear focus like the first two. Instead, we’ve been watching people drift along, unhappy and still hoping for more out of life. That’s not substantively different than what’s come before, but I’m not sure that’s a problem.