Oh, Ginsberg. Don't do it. (Courtesy AMCtv.)
This week, on Mad Men: Don and Betty find themselves at parties where they don't fit in; Ginsberg take steps to alleviate tension in the office.
Details below the fold. Scout's honor.
Ginsberg, wow. I cannot do better than Margaret Lyons' analysis for Vulture, so let's go with that:
Mad Men's Michael Ginsberg reached a crisis moment in his mental-health struggles last night, but that severed nipple is not the first time we've known Ginsberg to be detached from reality. In fact, the very first time we see him, in season five's "Tea Leaves," he confesses to being a bit unhinged. "I didn't pick this profession, it picked me," he tells Peggy, who's interviewing him based on his promising portfolio. "I didn't have any control over it." He thinks he sounds passionate, but he really sounds desperate. "I have no hobbies, no interests, no friends. No girlfriend, no family." He says he's the kind of guy who talks back to the radio (and note that it's his office radio malfunctioning that really sets him off in "The Runaways"). Peggy rolls her eyes and tells him that makes him like everyone else. "I've never been accused of that," he replies. It's self-deprecating and almost endearing, except for how deeply lonely he sounds.
As for Don Draper, however,
everything is looking up:
As recently as a week ago, it seemed his marriage had ended and his prospects within a hostile firm were dimmed beyond recognition, no matter how furiously he pounded out burger taglines on that Coronet. But suddenly he’s not only welcome again in Megan’s Laurel Canyon home, she’s inviting a friend into their bed, no big deal, 1969 California’s pretty chill sexually. (We will pause to recognize that is perhaps not the sign of a mending union as much as it is a symptom of ongoing marital dysfunction, your surprise three-way mileage may vary.) He’s catching a lucky break in the form of a Harry Crane–shaped coincidence showing up unexpectedly and offering crucial intel about a Philip Morris–fueled plot to oust him once and for all. He’s marching into a white-tablecloth meeting, sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but have you considered that maybe the only sane thing for your tobacco concern to do is to hire the man who once attempted to stub out the entire industry with a surgical strike in the New York Times? Bullshit delivered, bullshit received, bullshit marveled at by a stunned nemesis whose only reaction is you magnificent bastard …
As for Betty Draper Francis,
who speaks Italian goddamnit, it feels like the feminist revolution which hit Peggy Olson years ago (as well as Sally) has finally crept into the suburbs. Which, of course, doesn't make her any less cruel of a mother, but it's something. Will she, in fact, run for office? Do anything to make manifest to the world that she is not, in fact, just another pretty face?
Probably not. I just wouldn't want to get in Sally's way at this point.
Meanwhile, Joan, Roger and Pete, are, apparently, out visiting Bob Benson, Glen Bishop, or whatever. Two episodes to go this year.