Mad Women

One of my minor nits with Mad Men is how often its female characters are depicted as the downtrodden, helpless victims of a male dominated 1960s world. Plot elements tend to over exaggerate the plight of these women for the sake of drama and Mad Men’s more “progressive” contemporary audience. Despite living in a world of ubiquitous sexism that makes us cringe today, the majority of real women I know from that era managed to live happy, fulfilling lives. This happiness, I submit, wasn’t a manifestation of some sort of sociological Stockholm Syndrome. Truth be told, these women were as much A PART of the mores of that time as they were its victims.

That’s why I got charge out of “A Night to Remember,” Mad Men’s eight outing for Season 2. It finally allowed two of the more oppressed characters, Betty and Peggy, to push back. Don’t get me wrong; it's still very much a man’s world. But this time, these women don’t submissively acquiesce to the testosterone induced flogging that society has been dishing out for them on a weekly basis. In fact, a theme running through this episode concerns the power that females, knowingly or not, can wield in that world BECAUSE of their gender.

The title itself conjures up catastrophic images of, literally (if you pardon the pun), titanic proportions. It ostensibly refers to Peggy’s “pro bono” work with Father Gill designing marketing pieces for an upcoming church dance. But, like most things on Mad Men, its dual meaning equally, and perhaps more pointedly, applies to Betty and Don’s story.

As the episode begins, Betty is still processing the revelation from “The Gold Violin” that Don has been screwing around with Bobbie Barrett. By the end of “A Night to Remember,” Don’s indiscretion will have more negative ramifications for the Drapers than Betty puking on their beloved new Cadillac’s red interior. As she did after first hearing of the affair from Bobbie’s jilted husband Jimmy.

While simmering in her own thoughts, Betty is at home preparing for an important dinner party that the Draper’s are hosting so that Duck Phillips and Roger Sterling can meet Crab (yes, "Crab") Colson of the PR firm Rogers and Cowan. The discovery of a wobbly dining room chair seems to be Betty's tipping point as she calmly proceeds to smash it on the oriental rug. This occurs in full view of the children who are watching television from another room. While the actual television is out of camera range, you can hear that it’s tuned to a Three Stooges short with Shemp (I’m a bit of a connoisseur). My first reaction was to wonder what more these poor kids would have to endure? It’s bad enough to have a basket case for a mom. But the Stooges without Curly? Come on!

To my surprise, however, upon a closer listening, I heard a few of Curly’s distinctive “nyuk, nyuk, nyuks” thrown into the mix. Since, Curly and Shemp never appeared together onscreen (okay, they did once in "Hold that Lion," but Curly only made a cameo and didn’t have any lines), it’s clear that the director didn’t just drop in a sound clip from one Stooge outing for atmosphere. They actually constructed a track from a number of different shorts that would be recognizable as The Three Stooges BUT would also add meaning to Betty’s actions.

In this case, the key lines came from a 1947 Stooge short, “Brideless Groom.” The scene they choose was of Shemp getting the tar kicked out of him by a blond hottie, who, the entire time she’s putting the boots to him, professes to be a helpless female. That scene ends with Shemp getting violently tossed through the front door and out of the “helpless” woman’s home (see clip below). Given Mad Men’s attention to details of this sort, I can’t imagine it to be a mere coincidence.

Later, Duck, another “brideless groom,” arrives at the Draper party sans date. It’s a good thing his lady friend (probably fictional) canceled, as the Drapers are a chair short. However, one could conceivably argue that all of the men at the party are “brideless” in some way. Of course, the aforementioned Duck, whose wife has left him. Then there’s Roger Sterling whose marriage seems less than satisfying. Crab Colson’s wife is a portrayed as a drunk who bounces off walls. And finally, Don, who has yet to realize his soon to be “brideless” status.

In the process of positioning SC to land the Heineken beer account, Don feels that Betty, an affluent, suburban housewife, is a good sample of a viable target market. To that end, Don uses the occasion of the party to enlist her as the sole and unknowing subject in a consumer behavior experiment. To the laughing delight of the marketing professionals at the party, she passes Don’s test with flying colors by selecting the fancy imported Heineken for the event.

After the party, Betty confronts Don about his making her the butt of a joke in front of his colleagues.

Of course, the Heineken “experiment” isn’t really what she’s mad about. Betty finally lets Don know that she’s aware of his fling with Bobbie. Ever the salesman, Don asks her to tell him what she thinks she knows. Betty immediately pushes back by astutely pointing out that he’d find a way poke holes in whatever she said. I hate to admit it, but I almost felt as frustrated as Don when his pitch to sell his innocence falls short.

As portrayed, Betty’s breakdown and eventual rebellion over Don’s affair is both plausible and powerful. That night, after her fight with Don, she retreats to bed, wearing the same dinner dress. The next day, still wearing the dress, she rifles through Don’s things looking for clues of his infidelity and only finds “stupid marketing stuff.” At one point, Betty steps on a wineglass and breaks it into pieces. I took this as a deliberate reference to a Jewish wedding ceremony where a similar act is performed. The symbolism of Betty pulling a shard of glass out of her bare foot doesn't bode well for the Draper marriage.

Meanwhile, back at the office, Harry Crane’s television department gets the blame when, Maytag, an SC client, complains about the placement of one of their TV ads. Apparently, their washing machine spot touting the benefits of a new agitator was juxtaposed with a television show whose plot that involved a Communist “agitator.”

As a result, Harry is given the impossible tasks of reading ALL the scripts for upcoming television shows with an eye toward keeping their client’s commercials optimally positioned.

Historically, this was a very real dynamic for that day. In fact, ad agencies arguably had more influence than the Mad Man episode portrays.

Rod Serling once recalled, "Before the script goes before the cameras, the networks, the sponsors, the ad agency men censor it so that by the time it's seen on the home screen, all the message has been squeezed out of it. One time we couldn't mention Hitler's gas ovens because a gas company sponsored the show." This was the inspiration for his classic anthology series, The Twilight Zone, where the sci-fi plots effectively camouflaged his more controversial themes from the prying eyes of network and ad execs.

Failing to get any official help from Roger, Joan Holloway is temporarily brought on board to read scripts. She’s a natural and takes to it the same way Peggy took to writing ad copy. Her efforts turn out to be a big hit with SC clients, some of whom are the characterized as garden-variety lechers who enjoy meeting with Joan as much as the advice she gives them.

This success convinces Roger to formally create a position in Harry’s department that allows Joan to go back to her regular duties. When finding out that the script reading job is going to a younger, less qualified male, Joan handles it well. But it’s clear that she is crushed.

I think many would interpret Roger’s actions as the vindictive move of a spurned lover. But, I see it differently. It appears that SC treats its television department as a bit of a necessary nuisance. This is comparable to how many ad agencies treated their web teams in the middle to late 90s. To Roger’s way of thinking, the script reading task was beneath Joan and an unwelcome distraction from her more prestigious role as Office Manager. Thus, it could be said that Roger was doing what he thought was in the best interests of his one time virtual “bride.”

This brings me to Peggy and Father Gill. As the Sacrament of “Holy Orders” effectively marries Gill to the church, he may be the episode’s fifth brideless groom. It’s refreshing to see a Catholic priest portrayed as something other than a grizzled old Charles Durning type or a failed Lothario a la The Sopranos. I really hope they don’t devolve his relationship with Peggy into a clichéd romantic one.

Peggy and Gill have to contend with a gaggle of church lady organizers who prove to be just as difficult as any high-powered SC customer. They think that the concept, “A Night to Remember,” is too suggestive for a young person’s dance. Peggy reminds them that their advertising efforts should be directed at the young girl market. Consistent with the theme of female power, she predicts that if the girls show up at the dance, so will the boys.

"You're supposed to tell them to trust me," Peggy later testily complains to Father Gill while reading him the riot act after he to backs down to the matrons over the wording on the promotional flyers. He agrees and then changes the subject to discuss Peggy’s apparent lapse in faith. She hasn’t been receiving Communion. Again, it was nice to hear a character of faith sincerely explaining the spirtual benefits of their religious dogma. Nonetheless, Peggy politely, but firmly, brushes him off.

As Betty and Peggy exert their power, it’s Joan who seems have lost some in this episode. Her doctor fiancé clearly doesn’t understand the feeling of satisfaction she received out of the script reading assignment and actually looks forward to the day when Joan can stay at home “eating bon bons.” At dinner, she waits dutifully on her man and even jumps to fulfill his rather rudely delivered request for a glass of water.

Later on, we see Joan changing for the night. Promoting her sexuality to get ahead now seems to be a two edged sword. Dejected, Joan personifies the expression, “you’ve made your bed, now lie in it.” The straps of her tight and sultry outfit, an asset at work, now seem equally constricting as they leave deep, visible marks on her shoulders.

The shot of Joan undressing is juxtaposed with a scene of Father Gill removing his vestments as he readies for bed. The conclusion one could reach is that his vocation is equally constrictive for him. Snuffing out a cigarette, an act that bonds him to the other worldly male characters on the show, Father Gill unwinds by getting out his guitar to sing the Peter, Paul and Mary spiritual “Early in the Morning.” By the way, it may really be Colin Hanks singing, but the dubbing left something to be desired.

Betty, seeming to have come to terms with Don, has finally changed clothes and is back at work in the kitchen. Make Room for Daddy plays on the television. Danny Thomas, who along with Desi Arnaz, were the original alpha-male sit-com husbands, is consoling his son Rusty who has just gotten dumped by a girl. Ironically, when it cuts to commerical, a Jimmy Barrett spot for Utz Nuts appears just in time for Betty to see it. Afterward, in the same calm demeanor she displayed breaking the chair, Betty calls Don at work and tells him not to bother coming home.

“A Night to Remember” ends with the now almost tiresome device of a montage showing the dust settling on the various story lines set to music.

Peggy sits in a tub staring ahead despondently. Has Father Gill’s questioning caused her to pull further back into her shell? Or does the bath represent a sort of second baptism which will signal her attempt to return to the flock?

The last shot shows a dejected Don still at the office and alone. Grabbing a Heineken from the kitchen refrigerator, this time, nyuk, nyuk, nyuk, the joke is on him.

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Shemp getting beat up by a poor, defenseless woman in "Brideless Groom" (end of part 1 and start of part 2):



From IMDB "trivia": In one scene, Christine McIntyre discovers that Shemp is not the "Cousin Basil" she thought he was, and slaps him around, then punches him and knocks him through the door. McIntyre, who was not a professional stuntwoman, leaned too far in when she "punched" Shemp, and actually did hit him, breaking his nose. The sequence was left in the picture.