[rating=8.00]
“You’re so old-fashioned.”
“I’ve tried new-fashioned.”
This brief exchange, between a wine-inspired Peggy and Mathis’ brother-in-law Stevie, gives a vicarious voice to the conflict within not only Don Draper, but the entire Sterling Cooper & Partners makeshift family — the arguable core of which (Don, Peggy, and Pete) shared a memorable meal together at Burger Chef in “The Strategy.” While last year’s finale (the Bert Cooper sendoff “Waterloo”) touched on a Don aware of time’s repeated intrusions on happiness, this episode seems to suggest a slightly different Don altogether — though still warring against himself, his past, and the illusion of the present.
The sudden omnipresence of mustaches firmly plants us in 1970, with the once-underground hippie culture of the mid 60s now having fully invaded the mainstream. Don, however, has wisely and tellingly avoided all of this. What Don can’t avoid, however, is the maddening forward motion of time. At a diner with Roger and several nameless dates, Don is absolutely convinced he recognizes the waitress — so convinced, in fact, that he returns to the diner again to sort it out. Mistaking Roger’s previous outlandish tip as some sort of signal, the waitress abruptly has sex with Don outside the diner on her break. Elsewhere, Don dreams of a woman he could have loved — Rachel Menken, who states rather drolly “You missed your flight.”
While Joan and Peggy suffer through a bout of leftover ’50s sexism masquerading as a business meeting, Ken Cosgrove is faced with the very real possibility of actively pursuing his dream of being a real writer at the behest of his wife. The very next day, Ken is quietly fired and seems frozen in fear or joy or both. Ultimately, Ken chooses revenge over passion, logic over creativity, old over new. Joan and Peggy, for their battle, arrive at a disappointing blend of both. The illusion of their present is repeatedly shattered by the insistent repetition of the past.
After failing to get in touch with Rachel following his dream, Don is shocked to learn of her death. Though he also attempts to manufacture some sort of closure with Rachel via the waitress at the diner, Don also attempts the real thing by visiting a group of mourners. As Don gracelessly pieces together moments of Rachel’s life that he’s missed (her children, her marriage, her family; seemingly different versions of everything Don once promised to leave behind for Rachel), we see a Don as hungry for pain as he is for joy.
“I’ve lived in New York for a long time.”
Indeed, Don. Indeed.
