Plasma Pool

Did Jon Hamm lose weight this season? Or did they just change the lighting so that his proud Captain America face (aside: “Football hero who hates his father” officially enters the lexicon as a synonym for upper-middle class successful male ennui) began to look gaunt, malnourished, the face of a noir anti-hero who ends up bleeding alone in a getaway car? Back in the season premiere, I was worried that Hamm looked more like a wax imitation of Don Draper than a real person — here’s old Don, bedding an eager stewardess and making you believe there is fog in London! But then “Seven Twenty Three” happened, the middle episode of the season which left Don toadishly signing his life away, modeling the Chinatown nose-bandage which can only symbolize impotence and ruin.

I think you’re hitting on something, Eric, something which only became clear as the back half of the season played out: Season 3 was about Destruction, but the quiet kind of destruction. We saw JFK die, an event which Weiner once claimed he didn’t feel like showing, because what was left to say? Well, Weiner managed to be the first person in years, maybe decades, to say something new about the JFK assassination: far from changing everything and spoiling everyone’s fun and destroying Camelot, it was the best thing to happen to the characters all season. It opened their eyes.

In a nutshell, Season 3 felt weird because it mostly took place geographically in the corpse of Season 2. Almost every key plot point developed from decisions that were made last season — the purchase of Sterling Cooper, the revelation of Don’s adultery, the Draper’s shotgun reconciliation, Joan’s engagement, Roger’s new marriage. In a sense, all of these decisions were bad ideas, and the genius of Season 3 was in seeing just how long it took the characters to figure that out. (Conversely, the one professional and personal success story all season was Harry Crane, who took a gamble on television and ended up the all-important sixth man at Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce dot dot dot Campbell, if Pete has his way.)

I’m intrigued, Eric: how did you feel about the final three episodes, which struck me as the most Dick Whitman-centric since season one? (I guess you could count Don’s trip to LA, but that felt more like a leisurely escapist dream, complete with European decadents who vanish in the night.) I know you’ve never been a fan of the Whitman stuff, but I felt like the final three episodes were practically about the death of Don Draper and the rebirth of Dick Whitman’s soul.

First, he expurgated his life story, the first time he’s ever told anyone a thing about himself besides Rachel Menken; and if he had ever been afraid that Betty would leave him if she found out, then he must have felt a bit of relief when she actually did. Then, he gave up on pleasing his substitute father, Connie, and decided to take matters into his own hands. It was another identity rebirth, a shapechange, but this time he was taking other people with him. In a moment that could have seemed mawkish, he walked into his new hotel room office and grinned at his new co-workers.

I couldn’t be more excited about Season 4, though the AMC preview that played right after Mad Men’s finale got me uncommonly excited about the intriguing persona the whole channel is adopting (The Prisoner, Breaking Bad, and Mad Men are all shows about people with secret identities — motif alert!) What do you think Season Four will bring? I’d be sad to see Ken, Paul, and Smitty go, but I think this show could do with a minor cast-cull before it gets overextended. Also, is Don/Peggy the hottest non-sexual couple on TV?