Mad Men: Season 5, episode 11 – The Other Woman

SPOILER ALERT: This blog is for those who are watching season five of Mad Men on Sky Atlantic. Don't read on if you haven't seen episode 11

Paul MacInnes's episode 10 blog

"If they weren't out of our reach, beyond our control, would we love them like we do?" - Don Draper

Did you expect this – that one episode would contain so much? A single 47-minute episode no less, of a series that seems to delight in delaying narrative gratification. Did you expect to see Peggy walk out on Don, Joan become a partner, Roger reveal his true colours, Pete make his move to the head of the firm, Lane to undermine that same firm's entire future and the blessed Megan have her dreams sourly squashed? You may have done. I certainly did not.

This was an epic episode with a thoroughly disquieting tone. It is sometimes said that none of the characters in Mad Men are likeable. Such thoughts were borne out spectacularly in this hour. The weight of obnoxiousness falls exclusively on male shoulders too. If every plot event this week wasn't set off by a misogynistic act, then you could have fooled me.

First among equals in this regard is Pete Campbell. I have not felt a loathing so visceral for a TV character in a long time, if ever. (If I did, it was probably for Grotbags). It wasn't just the depravity of his actions; his decision to actively pursue the idea of Joan selling her body so to improve SCDP's chances with Jaguar. Neither was it the way he picked the thought up without anybody asking and pursued it with such gusto. No, it was the way he rationalised the proposal as a business decision or transaction not much different from schmoozing a client. And what's more, she'd get paid! "We've all had nights in our life when we've made mistakes for free", says Pete, equating a drunken tryst with being sold out by the closest thing you have to family. "I hope I haven't insulted you. That's all that matters to me." Get out of my face Campbell!

Not that his colleagues were much better. Roger Sterling, the man who just last week was scoping out the possibility of rekindling romance with Red, had only this to say when it comes to the crunch: "I'm not going to stand in the way, but I'm not paying for it." Lane? He was convinced he was acting with compassion – "I've put your interests above those of the company" – but he couldn't see that his plan to wrangle a partnership meant he was still treating Joan's honour as a commodity to be traded. Bert Cooper, meanwhile, does nothing but issue a limp, tardy "Let her know she can still say no."

It's pretty clear that if Joan did say no, while the company might not fail, she would be held responsible for any downturn in fortunes (by Pete, at least). How much a sense of corporate duty influenced her decision though, I'm not sure. I would say more it was a sense of abandonment, and an accompanying flight of self-respect. It was self-loathing that drove her.

Well, that and the money. It struck me that Joan did end up conducting a Cost Benefit Analysis on her indecent proposal. And she decided the benefits were worth it. Admittedly a refusal might have ended her career, but her acceptance of the offer had at least three distinct advantages. First, it paid well and would support a woman and her child for a lifetime (as Lane says). Second, it gave her a status within the organisation to which, judging by her daily behaviour, she had always felt entitled; Third, it gave her a win over Peggy Olsen. (And if you think that didn't matter to Joan, check the sly glance across the office as she celebrates and Peggy makes her exit.)

The man I didn't mention as being complicit was Don, because he wasn't. That doesn't mean he didn't have his own moment of misogynist madness; a reckless, disdainful gesture that brought his protege to walk away from her mentor. "You wanna go to Paris? Here, go to Paris." With an intensity that came out of nowhere, and – as far as I was aware – a complete misreading of Peggy's interests (she wanted the account, not the trip), Don chucked money at his colleague in an act reminiscent of a punter at a strip club.

Don doesn't own Peggy. But in this moment he acted like he did. And while the tone may have simply flared up in the middle of a stressful period – Ken attributes Don's actions to a belief that SCDP had lost Jaguar – the sentiment didn't. Later when, saying goodbye to Peggy, Don couldn't help but snap "Let's pretend for a minute that I'm not responsible for everything good that's ever happened to you." Really, it's not a good look.

I thought Peggy's departure came as a surprise. I knew she was struggling with her workload and lack of recognition, but I didn't think she'd exactly been impressing anyone either. This week, of course, she pulled out a piece of spontaneous impro copywriting, thus reminding us of her credentials just as she cashed them in.

I am slightly puzzled by the final shot of the episode though. We had another massive musical climax, with the Kinks' You Really Got Me kicking in as the credits fade up. This rush of rock'n'roll seemed significant, as if it was representative of all the exciting adventures yet to come for Peggy. It was even corroborated by Peggy herself, a previously pensive look slipping into a sly smile as she stepped into the lift (and not, presumably, the lift shaft).

But why? Why was she smiling? What was exciting about her departure? She'll get more money, she'll get a different title but surely it won't be any more creative? This ability that Peggy purportedly has, to make every ad campaign personal, will that really be encouraged in other places any more that is had been to this point? I wonder. And I wonder therefore whether her move was actually not about self-determination but about being wooed. She was made to feel wanted; to feel special. "First day of work ends with you and me at La Caravelle," says her suitor from Cutler, Gleeson and Chaough - and that was all she was looking for.

In the final contribution to the section marked "the systematic degradation of female Mad Men characters" we pass briefly over Megan. The Perfect One got a callback after an audition. This was exciting news for everyone. Less exciting for Don was the fact Megan chose not to tell him that, if she were to get the part, she'd be immediately pushing off to Boston for nigh-on three months to rehearse. Megan had chose to hold back on that particular piece of info and, after revealing it, accused Don of denying her dreams.

Other fantasies were to be dispelled at the callback, however, as Megan, dressed plainly and neatly, was instructed by her auditioners not to read her part, but give them a twirl. Advertising may be a wheeze for shifting product, but the acting trade is not quite as high-minded as Megan might have convinced herself.

This week's notes

Who are the Jaguar freelancers? And why are they so hardnosed?

I note that 60's "car men" are generally boorish and unpleasant. Thank god that's changed then.

If Lane affects the most implausible mock-outrage on the subject of the bonuses once more, I will scream.

I have forgotten, but I'm sure you'll know. Where does "ballerina', Freddie's nickname for Peggy, come from?

Didn't dig on the time-split thing. I know that point needed to be made, but such a trick felt as if it undermined the power the moment could have had.

Time stamps

We are in 1967. And Valentine's day is coming up. Roger Corman released his film 'The St Valentine's Day Massacre' in 1967. It had Jack Nicholson in it in an uncredited role.

In other January 1967 news, San Francisco's hippy movement started bubbling up with the Human Be-In in Golden Gate Park. Also, the UK began negotiations to enter the EEC. (Wonder how that turned out?)

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