Television
Eric Freeman

I’m not sure “The Summer Man” was a great episode because things happened. Instead, it was an hour full of aesthetic risks. Mad Men has always existed primarily from Don’s point of view, most clearly through flashbacks, but we’ve rarely been guided through an episode by his words. Until “The Summer Man,” that is, where we were basically treated to a series of variations on the justly praised “Carousel” speech from the first-season finale. These were some of the best scenes the series has ever done.
Television
Eric Freeman

There’s a risk of expecting too much from the fourth season — there are so many possibilities that whatever path Weiner ends up taking will be disappointing. I’ll leave the specific possibilities for later in the discussion. Right now, I just want to commend Matthew Weiner for taking the leap and recognizing that this show was in danger of becoming too static for its own good.
Television
Darren Franich

There’s a sense of toxic beauty at work in Mad Men. MTV recently tried to bury an awful yet fascinating documentary about Paris Hilton that makes for fascinating viewing — not because it really shows any deeper side of Paris Hilton, but because it shows her struggling with what she dimly perceives as some missing depth in her own personality. It makes me think of Betty, who, having kicked her husband out of her house, spends two days wandering around her house in a cocktail dress, then gets back at Don by becoming Don for a night. And it makes me think of Joan crying in her ex-lover’s office about the death of Marilyn Monroe.
Television
Darren Franich

Do things have to happen on a TV show? In the past decade, a perceived rift has developed in how television tells stories. On one hand, you have the episodic series, typically procedurals involving ever-more-eccentric methods of crimesolving, where each new part tells a story complete in itself and you can essentially watch any episode without any prior knowledge of the show and get the point. On the other hand, you have the serialized series, where each episode builds off what’s happened and paves the way for what’s coming and viewers are rewarded for encyclopedic nano-detailed knowledge of plot points five seasons in the past. Mad Men frustrates this rift. It rewards close attention without particularly demanding it.
Television
Eric Freeman

Mad Men stands out from similarly well-regarded series in that very little seems to happen in each episode and season. Compared to a show like The Sopranos, it appears to lumber along with all the narrative excitement of Antiques Roadshow. Even the show’s most ardent supporters would have to admit that it moves slowly. At the same time, a quick rundown of each season’s plot makes it sound like a soap opera. How do we reconcile the experience of watching Mad Men with its incongruous plot summaries?