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A deceptively shattering episode, more felt than understood, that sends some characters into the arms of change while causing others to revert to old habits. Before everything goes to hell, Pryce tells Pete that, on his own authority, he's giving Ken the sweet promotion to SVP of Account Services based on superior interpersonal skills. The lowlier title promotion to Head of Account Management doesn't mollify Pete, and his first instinct is to call Duck, but Trudy convinces him to wait and see how things shake out. Speaking of Duck, Peggy's still seeing him, to the bemusement of her roommate. Betty and Don seem to be doing okay in light of last week, but Don's pissed at Pryce for still not having hired a replacement for Sal. Also, Margaret's wedding is imminent, but she's unhappy about the way Jane has been trying to be all buddy-buddy with her and still resentful of her existence, and is generally bummed about marriage and pissed off at the world. She calls Roger and tells him once again she doesn't want Jane at the wedding, but Mona and Roger conspire to keep her under control. Roger then chews Jane out for being so familiar with Margaret, so everything's looking like Happy Fun Times for the nuptials.
But the real shock is that the JFK assassination happens in this episode rather than in the finale, which thankfully gives the show a little time to explore the characters' reactions before the end of the season. While Betty sobs with Carla, and Pete and Trudy are indignant that everyone's not as devastated as they, Don, after doing so well at acting like a human being last week, doesn't seem to have any emotions attached to the tragedy and is unable really to relate to those who do. Amazingly, the wedding still takes place, but while Don convinces Betty to go, Pete talks Trudy out of it, and later, she tells him she sees things differently now -- he should take his clients and leave SC. Pete and Trudy are not by a long shot the only ones to stay home to grieve, so the affair's an expected disaster on both the attendance and service fronts, but Margaret seems to be relieved at how decidedly not perfect it is and also able to put things in perspective in light of the tragedy, and all seems forgiven between father and daughter when they share the first dance. Roger, however, is moved by all the emotional upheaval of the last day to call Joan, and between the tension with Jane and the fact that Greg may be gone soon it seems like there's potential for a Season Four reunion between those two.
Betty's watching when Lee Harvey Oswald is murdered on live TV, and this causes her to freak out at Don, as he assured her at the wedding that everything was going to be okay, and now she apparently thinks that was representative of the empty lies he's been telling her for years. This moves her to see Francis, who was at the wedding, and, with his own perspective no doubt colored by the preceding events, he tells her while she doesn't need to answer immediately, he wants to marry her. Betty then goes home and tells Don she's so angry with him and wants to yell, but there's no point -- she doesn't love him anymore. He's not trying to hear that, thinking she's too distraught over JFK to be thinking clearly, but when he's alone, he looks smaller than we've ever seen him. He goes to work on Monday and finds only Peggy, his kindred spirit in many ways, but declines to join even her in viewing the state funeral. He instead goes to drink in his office, and now it seems that the worst-case scenario from the events of last week will come to pass, and he's truly alone, just as it seems he thought he'd always end up. And you'll pardon me if I now go watch a Glee rerun to get myself back into emotional balance.
Want more? The full recap starts right below! Pete's lying on his office couch, and from the way he's bundled up and the fact that Hildy brings him some hot chocolate, either SC is having a really bad month, or the building owner is pulling a classic New York City move and being all "Oh, is it really November already?" Dicks. Pete indulges in a little complaining about the fact that the stuff is instant before apologizing to Hildy, but given what's coming if the apology is an attempt to improve his karma it's not going to work. At Hildy's relaying of a request for his presence, Pete then goes to see Pryce......who's sitting in his office sipping tea, scarf and leather gloves in use. After Pete takes a seat, Pryce unceremoniously gives him some bad news: Ken has been made Senior Vice President of Accounts Services, while Pete will be Head of Account Management. Pete is not exactly thrilled, and when Pryce goes on that this isn't to ignore all his great service to the company (when it kind of totally is), Pete asks what the decision was based on, pointing out that his billings and Ken's are neck and neck, and opining that he thinks he did pretty well with what he was given "in this arbitrary scheme." Pryce leans forward and tells Pete the truth: While Pete is excellent at getting the clients to feel their needs are being met, Ken "has the rare gift of making them feel as if they haven't any needs." There are different ways that could be interpreted, to be sure, but I think what he's basically saying is that clients like Ken better than Pete, which is something I suspect Pete feared would be the deciding factor all along. Pryce just about flat-out tells Pete that the title improvement should make him happy enough not to bitch to his clients about the decision, and when Pete asks if Bertram and Roger know about it, Pryce tells him he made it on his authority alone. "And I have to commend you on taking it as well as you have." I think that's Pryce's clever way of drawing the meeting to a close, because now any real complaining by Pete will seem terribly gauche. I mean, my idea of taking bad news well certainly doesn't match up with Pete's face, on which the words "murder" and "suicide" are currently separated by his nose. And Pryce's gambit works, as Pete stands and sticks out his hand. After Pryce gets his glove off and shakes, Pete expresses the hope that it was at least a difficult decision, but Pryce's "It was" comes far too automatically to be sincere. Pete exits...
...and we cut to him walking back out into the main area in a daze, and the way he's clutching that hot chocolate like it's the only thing keeping him alive is unexpectedly affecting. He finds some focus, however, when he sees Ken helping one of the secretaries plug an appliance in under her desk, I think. Their eyes meet, and Ken looks both chastened and bummed at the hurt in Pete's eyes. You can argue the merits of the decision, but even Ken would admit that Pete wanted it more. Plus, I'm guessing they won't be going out for drinks after work anymore, and with Sal gone and Harry still married, the Boys' Club is looking pretty sparse these days. And speaking of sparse, leaving aside this competition that really hasn't gotten all that much screentime, has Ken really had any subplots this entire season, other than indirectly causing a guy to lose his foot? It makes the promotion feel a little weird, even though on the merits it's probably correct. Anyway, Pete only stops back in his office long enough to exchange the hot chocolate for his bag, and when Hildy asks the obvious question, he practically spits that he doesn't feel well. He'll be in good company soon enough.
Downstairs, Peggy and Karen are returning from lunch, and I don't remember if this is the first definite confirmation that they ended up moving in together, but here we are. Peggy's complaining about the place they went to, saying she could have eaten and even had a drink at her desk for less money, which (a) that seems kind of rude, as the implication could be taken that Karen's company isn't worth shit, and (b) you'd think she'd be happy enough to get out of the unheated office, no? Karen doesn't take it badly, though, merely joking that she's sorry she's not as "stimulating a lunch companion" as "Doug," which answers the question of whether Peggy's still getting, um, professionally ridden. Peggy corrects Karen on the name before adding that she works most lunches, and Karen decides to let someone else call Peggy on that bullshit, which you won't mind me telling you is going to work out splendidly. She does mention that she dislikes Duck's aftershave, but then sighs that she doesn't know why she's even weighing in on men, given her recent luck. Peggy replies that it's good that she's being picky, hilariously adding "finally" to that thought with no break in tempo, and Karen replies that the only men out there right now are married. "We can't all throw caution to the wind." Peggy corrects Karen's assumption, saying Duck's not married, and Karen's surprised: "Then why are you with him?" HA! I don't know if she's referring to the exciting danger of dating a married man, or the fact that you can get sex in that situation without any annoying commitment issues getting in the way, but whatever it is, Elisabeth Moss's loss for a response could mean my death of giggling. The door opens, and after Pete glowers his way off, the girls take their leave of each other, since as you might remember Karen works on the first floor. She is missing out on the chance to meet eligible men in the elevator, but life is never going to be perfect.
Cut to a close-up of someone opening a small box to reveal two earrings that...well, I've never seen Blood Diamond, but if you were to tell me the plot revolved around this pair I wouldn't exactly be surprised. The opener is Mona, who blithely comments, "How very Jane Siegel Sterling." Expensive, tacky, and unaware of when to quit? Sounds about right. Mona does go on to add, however, that Jane is "trying," which brings a right snit from Margaret about how Mona always takes Jane's side, which I find hilarious in concept. Like, Margaret, if you think your mother, who Roger left for a twenty-something-year-old, is consistently taking the side of that twenty-something-year-old, it seems to me extremely likely that there's either a flaw in your perception of the situation, a flaw in your behavior, or, by far the most likely, both. Mona sharply denies that accusation, and Margaret, looking like she's holding back from projectile vomiting, says that Jane has been giving her advice like "Don't go to bed angry," "Let them do what they want," and "Dress sexy." Well, I'm not going to say that's not totally Smurfy, but for Margaret to say that Jane's ruined her life by being with Roger makes it kind of hard to take her seriously, even when she goes on that she doesn't want to get married. She kind of honestly makes absolutely no sense as she blubbers her way into a story about Brooks's mother telling her that in India, if a wedding doesn't take place at the appointed hour, the bride gets burned alive, but it's all worth it for Mona's response: "Just because she went to India doesn't mean she's not an idiot." Hee. Margaret, however, is not mollified by the delicious use of the double negative, saying that if Jane comes, she's not going. As she makes this declaration, her face resembles nothing so much as Pete's when he just pouted in Ken's direction, so you can imagine that once again, it's difficult to take her seriously, and Mona, who can see daylight on getting this piece of work out of the house once and for all, tells her that Roger paid for the whole shindig, and as such he has the right to bring Jane. This eventually leads to Margaret calling Roger because Mona's being mean to her, and while I'm betting that worked well as a go-to strategy in the past I think it's likely to be somewhat less effective in this particular instance. Margaret babbles to him about ho
w she doesn't like Jane and doesn't want her there, and continues to be incredibly clueless when she takes it as some sort of victory that Roger asks to speak to Mona. Mona continues to be awesome as she filters each side's barbs, telling Roger that he has to keep Jane under control and Margaret that she and Roger are both tired of her drama before threatening Margaret with canceling the wedding and leaving her to an Indian fate. Heh. After Margaret backs down and leaves the room, Mona asks Roger why Jane got Margaret such an expensive gift, but Roger didn't even know they'd seen each other, even saying he forbade such an interaction, which frankly shows more foresight than I would have given him credit for. The exes have a nice moment where they can't help but giggle at what a nightmare their DNA produced, but when they disconnect, Roger sternly calls Jane in and asks what the hell is up with her spending half his net worth on a gift that only served to produce a tantrum from his daughter. Jane plays the hurt "I'm a good person" card that was pretty shaky even when it was new, and although I can't blame her for being "tired of the awkwardness" it hasn't exactly been that long in the grand scheme of things. Roger doesn't bother agreeing with me and instead points out that she disobeyed a direct order, with exactly the result he expected, which prompts Jane to throw a tantrum of her own and lock herself in the bathroom. And while Roger is only home during the day because he "overdid it at lunch," in his own words, I'm thinking this exchange is going to send him straight to the wet bar.
Pete's sulkily eating something straight out of a serving bowl when Trudy arrives home and wonders what he's doing there. Pete tells her he got fired, which is a fairly pessimistic way of looking at a promotion, but then clarifies exactly what happened as best he can, considering he "couldn't even hear [Pryce]. All I saw was his froglike mouth flapping." Heh. Trudy is happy to hear at least that Pete didn't lose his temper, but when she continues to pepper him with questions, he sighs, "Stop it with the Ellery Queen." Hee. He then asserts his intention to call Duck, and I certainly don't see the problem there, but Trudy thinks it'd be better to wait and see how everything shakes out. Pete bitterly complains that Pryce basically said he cares too much about his clients and they notice it, and asks how that could be bad. Well, since you ask, it's just part of the whole wanting it too much image that doesn't seem to go with the SC Accounts philosophy. I mean, the only thing Roger's ever wanted that much is a robot waitress that will bring him a drink the second he knows he wants one. Trudy assures him that he holds all the cards, which makes me wonder if she recently got stuck in a freshly-painted elevator. I mean, seriously: Huh?
Betty's awakened by the crying baby, but when she goes into his room, she finds Don already tending to him. She thanks him before telling him to go back to bed, and as she takes the baby from him they have a nice, easy moment together. All I'll say is that it's too bad the baby's not old enough to remember this.
Paul's in with Peggy, who complains that it's now way too hot, and having lived in New York for most of my life I can only nod sagely in response. Olive buzzes and informs Peggy that "Mr. Herman" is on line one, and I would have thought Peggy had a private line, but maybe Duck doesn't have the number with him because, as he tells her, he's right around the corner in a hotel room. Peggy asks Paul if he can give her a minute, and Paul, who's more hilarious in this scene than I remember him being since the stoner episode, is like, "No." Hee. Peggy tries to blow him off without giving away the nature of the call and fails spectacularly on both fronts, although I will note that when she tells him she's having lunch with Kurt and Smitty, he replies, "They're a couple of homos." It's barely even worth pointing out that he's only half right, but I will say that I'd take Peggy's place at that lunch in a heartbeat, so fuck off, Duck. And nice name, by the way. Anyway, after they hang up, Peggy tries to tell Paul she has to go to the printer, and if the discussion of Kurt and Smitty didn't tip him off, her flushed face and accelerated breathing would, so it's no surprise when he replies, "I know a nooner when I hear one!" Still funny, though. Peggy's like, "You're disgusting!" True enough, but he's not the one who's going to have trouble walking back to the office.
Pete comes in to see Harry for some sympathy: "I found out yesterday that Head of Accounts is going to Kenny and his haircut." Hee. Harry sympathetically says he heard, and lowers the volume on, as a reader emailed to tell me, an episode of As The World Turns. And the same reader informed me that he still remembers that scene being interrupted, and that the woman in it is now ninety-one and still appears on the show. Awesome. But does Harry seriously have to watch TV all day now? Not that I of all people have a theoretical objection, but it does seem like it would make it hard to get anything else done. Pete asks Harry if he was consulted, and Harry grimly replies, "After the fact." They agree that the news is not good for Pete, who breathes that he has no future there before asking how Harry got where he is. "You made your job up." Harry demurs, however, saying he merely used the fact that other agencies have TV departments and SC didn't. Pete sadly muses that there's no analogous road for him to take with Accounts, and there's kind of a weirdly-timed cut out of the scene...
...that leads us to Don coming in to see Pryce and bitching about the memo he got informing him that the guy he wanted to hire to replace Sal is too expensive for them. Don gets heated, in more ways than one: "Do you want me to walk you through a delivery schedule?"
Another oddly-timed cut ensues, and I'm now thinking that was done purposely to stir up feelings of unease in advance of what's about to happen. Because Duck, watching TV, sees a news announcement about "an attempt" on JFK's life that they know at least wounded him. There's a knock on the door, though, and Duck lets us know something about his priorities when he switches the TV off, and the fact the he even goes so far as to unplug it suggests he's not so much interested in giving Peggy a say about whether or not they're about to, um, go to the printer. And thus they commence their trip without delay.
Don continues to press his point until Pryce picks up the phone and suggests he call Powell. Don instead says he'll just go complain to Bertram. When he's gone, Pryce gets a phone call, and is like, "What?"
Harry's moving the pity party along by complaining about his own situation when a bunch of employees file in and commandeer his TV, switching it to the news report, and way to be on the ball, CBS. Everyone watches in horror...
...and as Don comes out of Pryce's office, he sees a sea of ringing phones and no one to answer them...and then, as one, they all stop. That got me right in the gut, I'll tell you, having lived through the same thing on 9/11 as all of you no doubt did as well. Don sees a group of people gathered around the entrance to Harry's office and wonders aloud what the hell is going on...
...while Betty's at home watching. She leans forward when an update comes in...and the word is given that JFK has died just as Carla enters from the back door. Carla and Betty sit and cry together as the kids come in uncertainly, and then Carla lights a cigarette, another touch I loved. Sally puts a consoling arm around Betty's shoulders...
...and now that they've, um, returned, after some discussion of hickeys, Duck tells Peggy there was a news story on before she arrived that's been on his mind, so he plugs the TV back in and sees Walter Cronkite giving the official announcement (CBS has caught up, finally), and his voice breaks a little as he gives the details. As Peggy gapes in shock, Duck rushes to call his kids. We don't get to see if he connects, and you'll pardon me for not really giving a shit.
Margaret, in her wedding dress, is inconsolable as Mona tries to comfort her. I'd feel sorrier for her if she hadn't bugged the crap out of me earlier, but it does kind of suck for her, with the upcoming immolation and all.
Don arrives home, not looking particularly affected, and calls for Betty. When she doesn't answer, he asks the kids, who are still in front of the TV, where she is, and Sally tells him she's not feeling well. She then appears, though, and as Don pulls her into a long embrace, she tells him she can't stop crying. After they disengage, he asks why the kids are watching the coverage, and she disbelievingly asks if she's supposed to keep it from them, which is the beginning of the end for him, although I didn't really grasp that on first viewing. He tells her to take a pill and lie down while he tends to the kids, and she looks like she wants to argue the point but eventually decides to leave the room without another word. Don tells the kids to turn the TV off, but they're transfixed, as you'd expect, so he sits on the couch and tells them everything will be okay -- they're getting a new President, and they'll all be sad for a bit. They keep the TV on...
...and later, Don comes up to bed and takes a pill himself. Two children by yourself can be quite a handful. Plus, there's the other thing.
The day, Betty and the kids are watching Cronkite talk about how Oswald claimed to be a Marxist, not a Communist, like most people would be interested in discerning the differences between the two even without the assassination. I mean, Betty's fugly pleated yellow housecoat alone is evidence enough that no one's brain is really turned on here. Don appears, already dressed to go to the wedding, and Betty's like, "Seriously?" It seems pretty clear to me that she wants some reaction from Don about the whole JFK affair, but all he does is gently prod her again to get dressed, prompting her to ask if it hasn't been canceled, as you might expect. Don, however, doesn't want to call Roger to find out, and I thought at first it was to avoid putting Roger in an embarrassing spot if he hadn't put it off, but now, from his delivery, I think it's just because he's not talking to Roger unless absolutely necessary, which seems petty, but either way, he says if it's a no go, they'll get some dinner in the city instead. "We can't just sit in front of the TV all day." This man is just baffling.
Pete and Trudy are dressed, but despite the fact that Trudy's all in electric blue Pete's attention is focused on the TV as he bitterly says that everything was going to change with JFK, and now they're stuck with Johnson. He then wonders why they're even going to the wedding. She counters that it's business, calling him "Pete" for the first time that I ever remember, but he hotly says that, while he does hate the SC brass, that's not why he wants to stay home -- it's that the President has been murdered. Trudy unenthusiastically reiterates that they have to show, and then sits on the couch with Pete. She asks if he's been drinking, and he snaps that the whole country's drinking, and not to celebrate some spoiled brat's wedding. He's met Margaret before, then. He goes on, "They'll never cancel. You know why? Because they're happy." He goes on that she should have heard some of the things people in the office said, and when Trudy indignantly asks for an example, he offers, "'Man made a lot of enemies,' things like that." She seethes that that's awful, and when he tells her another one about Harry doing paperwork regarding lost commercial revenue as other people were talking about poor Jackie and the kids, she's done -- his tie gets loosened, her shoes come off, and they're on the couch for the day. Guess I've got more in common with Pete and Trudy than Don, and that comes as a relief to a surprising degree.
Whether his reasoning was correct or not, Pete was right in that the wedding has indeed happened, and at the reception, Betty and Jennifer Crane (Harry's probably off crying some more about lost ad revenue) exchange stories about the preceding day across their sparsely-populated table before, in the front of the room, Roger grabs a microphone and genially asks everyone to please move up and sit wherever they feel like, and it's just too bad they didn't show anyone taking the opportunity to get out of a boring conversation, because you know that must have happened in at least one instance. Roger adds
that everyone should feel free to have both the prime rib and the filet of sole. "Help yourself. I mean that -- there are no waiters." Heh.
Mona's boyfriend is telling his table that when FDR died, the country got over it by bombing Japan, and they should do something similar now: "I say we hang Lee Oswald and then we take care of Texas. Hell, the whole South!" In order to fill in the "..." response from the table, Mona hilariously asks what everyone thought of the sweetbreads, and a woman in a wedding gown tells her she was right and...oh, wait, that's Margaret. I didn't recognize her with the grin on her face. Don't know if the JFK thing helped her gain some perspective on her problems, because it's hardly like the wedding came off without a hitch, but maybe that's the point -- it wasn't perfect, but it was hers, and it happened and she survived. Roger then appears and says the problem is solved, but Mona's like, not so much -- the cake isn't coming. In response, Roger steals the drink out of Mona's hand, and I bet she didn't think that was going to happen anymore now that they're divorced. When he steps away to down it, he sees Don staring blithely at him like he's enjoying this. But considering that Don's got a daughter with anger issues and a likely upcoming divorce, he should probably be looking at Roger with a lot more sympathy, a point that's underscored when Henry Francis enters and greets a young woman, observed by Betty. Jennifer babbles some crap about JFK wanting attention and not fitting in, so it's just as well Betty's attention is elsewhere; she's watching and, apparently, listening as Francis and the woman greet Margaret, for when the woman addresses Francis as "Daddy," Betty breathes a visible sigh of relief. As I've said many times before, she is so not cut out to have an affair.
Oh, there's Harry in the kitchen, crowded around a TV with Bertram, Ken, Jane, and two randoms. Oswald is on the screen, and Jane wonders, "How would you know that's what a monster looks like?" Well, if some of the conspiracy theorists are right, you wouldn't. Roger comes in and wonders what everyone's doing, and when Jane explains that Oswald is about to be interviewed, Roger sends one of the randoms off to buy a cake, an errand that will be interesting given that he's not allowed to speak. Roger then tells Jane that he needs her, as he's about to give his toast, but Jane replies that she's heard his toast a million times. "The President is dead. And I'll tell you something else -- our table has no one at it." Heh. Roger impotently says he consolidated the tables before giving up and asking Bertram to keep an eye on Jane, presumably so she doesn't blurt out scandalous gossip at an inopportune moment. Bertram and Jane remain to watch the press conference, but Ken follows Roger out...
...as do we. Roger first says he's cutting the toast short in acknowledgement of what's happened, and if that's true there's something to be said for having weddings the day after national tragedies. He then asks if someone could get his wife out of the kitchen so he can say something nice about her in her presence, "but while we're alone, I want to say something nice about my ex-wife." How very Roger Sterling. He tells her she's a "lioness" before adding, "and thank you for resisting the urge to eat your cub." Mona's face is like, I could have done that? Roger continues that it could have been an awful day, but instead of sitting around the TV, they're all there toasting the happy couple. He gets Margaret and Brooks up front and says their love and hope is giving strength to everyone there, and after everyone toasts their happiness, the band leader sends Roger and Margaret out for the first dance before, approximately two seconds later, inviting everyone to join them. Not how things are usually done, but maybe the photographer's home in front of the TV as well. Don drags a reluctant Betty out to the floor while Roger and Margaret have a nice dance together. After he looks over at Mona, Margaret tells him her mother is happy, and he snarks, "That's because she doesn't know his net worth just dropped by half." No wonder he wants to exterminate a bunch of people. Meanwhile, Betty's doing a terrific job of not looking at Don even though their faces are about six inches apart, but he mistakes her Francis-centered reverie for more JFK sadness and gets her attention to tell her everything's going to be fine. In all seriousness, she asks how he knows that, and after a long moment, he answers by kissing her. Again, not a bad strategy as a general rule, but given that it translates to "Because I'm saying I love you, even though I've been lying to you from the day we met," I think it's coming up short here. He assures her that she'll see, and she doesn't look convinced but at least he got her attention for a moment. Nearby, Francis's daughter asks why he keeps looking at Betty, and he's like, "What are you talking about?" with slightly less guile than Bart Simpson saying "I didn't do it." Everyone keeps dancing...
...and we cross-fade to later, with Betty coming out of the bathroom to find Don and Henry, and let's just say the blocking for the scene is not the most subtle directorial choice I've ever seen on the show, with Don and Henry standing close enough that there's "suspense" involved in her walk over to them, like she'd ever do something to make a public spectacle of herself here. Don is chatting obliviously while Henry stares at her in such a way as to render his earlier looks at her positively undetectable, like, he even turns toward her just as Don does the same, and I'm rarely one to criticize the show on a technical level but give me a break here. I mean, she waits for like five seconds before starting forward and they show the two of them waiting expectantly again. Ugh. Anyway, of course she goes to Don, and Harry asks Betty, "Did Jennifer fall in?" If she did and they didn't show it in favor of that bullshit just now, I'll be seriously pissed. Anyway, Betty and Don head out, and Francis turns to watch them go. Is he, like into her or something?
When we return, Roger is taking Jane into the bedroom in a fireman's carry as she babbles about how handsome JFK was. "And now I'll never get to vote for him!" HA! Jane steals the line of the episode, right there. He pitches her into bed and takes off her shoes, and I'm betting he's had some practice on that move considering he follows up its deft execution by almost tipping over from inebriation. Heh. He asks Jane if she wants him to cut her out of the dress, but she's already dreaming of a land in which JFK is still alive and you're allowed to vote for him as many times as you please no matter what age you are, so Roger, needing a bit more maturity and consciousness than she's got to offer at the moment, makes a phone call...
...to Joan, and take note of the fact he didn't need to look her number up despite the fact that she's only lived in this place since she's been involved with Greg. She's happy to hear his voice, and they commiserate about JFK for a moment before Roger reminds her that Margaret got married that day. "I wish you could have seen it. Oh my God, what a disaster." Hey, in his shoes, I'd be a lot happier with what actually happened than with everyone showing up but Margaret going home unhappy, and Roger at least follows up by admitting that they all pulled through. After a moment, he comments that he can't believe how quiet it is outside, but Joan tells him not everywhere -- Greg got called in to work the night shift at the ER, as life is still going on. Roger says he's glad Greg wasn't home -- he wanted to talk to her. He struggles for words, which is unusual no matter how much he's had to drink, and then blurts out, "Nobody else is saying the right thing about this!" She notes that he's really upset, and suggests it's because there's nothing funny about the situation, which is astute -- the guy who made jokes at a one-footed man'
s expense has nothing to offer here, and it's bumming him out. They tell each other to hang in there, and then they disconnect. As I said in the recaplet, if Greg goes bye-bye, I'm betting Roger would dump Jane if he thought he could get Joan back, although I wonder if he really can't afford another divorce. And then wouldn't the bitchy shoe be back on the other foot?
Don's in the kitchen making a drink, possibly the day, while Betty's watching TV -- and screams aloud when she sees Lee Harvey Oswald murdered by Jack Ruby on live TV in front of her very eyes. Regardless of what happened, it's upsetting to see now, so I can only imagine what it was like at the time. Don comes rushing in, and after she tells him what happened, she rhetorically but loudly asks what is going on, and when Don tries to take her arm consolingly, she tells him to leave her alone and exits the room. Sally, drawn by the commotion, asks Don what happened, but after a long, shocked moment, he tells her nothing. Not that I blame him in this instance, but he is just in over his head here.
Cross-fade to later, where the subject on TV has turned to flowers for the funeral. Don's asleep on the couch (that's more like it!) when Betty comes in, wakes him, and tells him she's going out for a drive. He's like, great idea, I'll get the kids, but she tells him she needs to clear her head and leaves without another word...
...and then she's waiting in the Cadillac in some warehouse's parking lot when Francis pulls in. He joins her in her car and asks where Don thinks she is, but she tells him she doesn't care -- he's been lying to her for years. She says she didn't know Francis was going to be there, like that wasn't obvious from her reaction, and wistfully muses that Derby Day feels like a hundred years ago. Honey, try recapping the season and then we'll talk. She goes on that seeing Oswald shot was so upsetting, and when Francis parrots Don's assertion that things will be okay, she tells him she wishes she could believe that, but it's hard for her to believe anything at the moment. This is what indicates to me that Don's promise that everything would be okay was such an unknowing misstep for him, but Francis, unencumbered by years of lies, tells her that there are other ways to live, and while he's not in love with their whole situation, he wants the two of them to happen. She reminds him she has three children, but he ignores that, saying that he'll know more about his future when the campaign shakes out in the spring, but he'll leave it right now for her. She says he doesn't need to do that, but he puts it out there -- while she doesn't need to answer right away, he wants to marry her. And whether you think this is in character for him given what we've seen up to this point (and I kind of do), I think, in keeping with the theme of the season, the assassination is the explosion that's accelerating everyone's actions -- some people are going to change hard, and some are going to steadfastly resist it. I used the word "shattering" in the recaplet in more than one sense -- the episode is emotionally shattering, to be sure, but it's also shattering in the sense that a lot of the developments seem irrecoverable to me. I don't think the Draper marriage will be saved. I don't think Pete will come back to SC. And I really don't know if Don will recover from this -- he only opened up to Betty under duress, and now that that's going bad I wonder if he'll ever be able to be anything other than a guarded shell of a man. Anyway, Betty is clearly thrown by the proposal and stammers that she doesn't know what to say, but he tells her that as he said, she doesn't have to answer now, but if she searches her heart, she'll know that he can make her happy. They kiss, fairly passionately, and after she gives him a fond smile, she says she should go. With an answering smile, he says he wishes he could take her to the movies right then, to some theater that was playing her favorite movie, and she offers, "Singin' In The Rain. That's a much more darling choice than I would have expected from her. I mean, if she'd said Mildred Pierce I wouldn't have been at all surprised. Anyway, after he exits the car, she starts to drive away, and the scene cuts out before we get to see if he does a dance at his apparent victory. Which is just fine with me, especially since we're up to the last commercial break.
When we return, Pete and Trudy are watching a slow-motion replay of the Oswald shooting, and Pete spits that there was no security even though Oswald was the most hated man in America. "Why even have a trial? Just throw him over to the mob!" Trudy shares his outrage, and while Pete's always been painted as progressive on the show despite his monied roots, I'm glad to see Trudy is on the same page. She then, no doubt thinking of the attitudes Pete was describing earlier, tells Pete that the SC people don't care about him. "You did everything they asked you to do, but you don't owe them anything." After another moment, she counsels him to start gathering his clients. "They'll follow you wherever you go." That might be a slightly optimistic assessment, but Pete's face lets us know he's eating it up. The only question is whether he'll slap Ken in the face on his way out the door.
Betty enters from the front door, and Don looks wary at the expression on her face, but volunteers that Francine has the kids. Betty steps into the room, takes off her coat, and gets into it: She wants to scream at Don "for ruining all of this," and it's unclear whether she means she wishes he never lied in the first place or merely that she wishes he'd taken more care to ensure she never found out, but regardless, even though he tried to fix the situation, there's no point to any of it. "There's no point, Don." Still uncomprehending, he gets to his feet and tells her he knows she's upset, but while it's painful, "it's going to pass." But not the way he thinks, as, with steel in her eyes, she tells him flat-out that she doesn't love him. He tells her she's distraught, but while she admits that's true, with an almost scientific curiosity at the words coming out of her mouth, she reasserts that she doesn't love him. She adds that when they kissed the day before, she didn't feel a thing, and this, I think, wounds him far more than he can afford to let on at the moment, but he soldiers on the only way he knows how, saying that she'll feel better the day. I never thought when this couple was first introduced that he'd end up the one desperate to hold on to her. Letting some disdain creep into her voice, she says he can't even hear her right now, and he responds, "You're right." He leaves the room, and she sits down on the couch and flops her head back in exasperation...
...while Don shakily enters the bedroom and sits down in the chair, hands clasped almost in prayer, unsuccessfully trying to fight off the creeping sense of dread that his marriage really is over. The camera pulls back to make him look smaller and smaller. Which is convenient, given that I'm betting he's sleeping on the couch tonight.
The day, even though it's a national day of mourning and the office is closed, Don is dressed for work. Coming into view of the kitchen, he pauses and watches Betty in that awful housecoat serving breakfast to the kids, probably wondering if this is really the end. Finally, he steps forward and offers a reasonably bright "Morning!" but when the kids are the only ones to respond, he looks askance at his wife. After he tells the kids he has to go to work, they notice Betty's resolute ignoring of Don, which Don chooses to accentuate by giving a long look in her direction before leaving. Even at their ages, they have to wonder how many times this can happen before they end up at a custody hearing.
In the darkened SC offices, Don hears a lone typewriter going, and is surprised to find Peggy working away in her office. After he understandably startles her, he asks what she's doing there, and she tells him, "Aqua Net." Any momentary confusion is dispelled when he looks at the storyboards, which, given the presence of a convertible in the pitch we saw, you won't be surprised to hear are reminiscent of the tragic Presidential motorcade. She somewhat glumly tells him it's okay, as they're not supposed to shoot until after Thanksgiving, and after a pause, he asks what she has. Instead of answering, though, she wonders what he's doing there, and his response is a terse, "Bars are closed." And talk about some lost revenue. Peggy offers her own story, saying Karen invited over half the building "so they could watch TV and write condolence letters to Jackie. Then I went to my sister's, and my mother was crying and praying so hard there wasn't room for anyone else to feel anything." Don nods and starts to walk out, but Peggy gets to her feet, saying the funeral's already started before asking permission to watch it in Bertram's office. He says that's fine, but when she asks if he's coming, he can only shake his head, and despite everything that's happened this season she's still the closest thing he's got to a kindred spirit on the show besides possibly Joan, so I think it's just illustrative of the fact that he now truly believes he should be alone, and it's a reversion in that it's a fate I think he always feared he deserved. ("I was surprised you ever loved me.") As if to agree, even the camera refuses to follow him in to his office, so we watch from outside as he pours himself a drink. Skeeter Davis's beautifully appropriate "The End Of The World" plays, and we go to credits.
So I don't know how much more of this I can take, but there's only one episode to go. As you may have noticed, there were no promos -- Matthew Weiner has kept a tight lid on the finale. A reader advanced an idea to me as to why that might be so that I'm totally in love with, but I won't say what it is right now in case it turns out to be true. See you for the season's conclusion!
John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. You can reach him at couchbaron@gmail.com.
Discuss this episode in our forums, then see why vloggers Val and Beth think the ladies of Mad Men have it good in TV is the Answer.
John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. You can reach him at couchbaron@gmail.com.
Discuss this episode in our forums, then see why vloggers Val and Beth think the ladies of Mad Men have it good in TV is the Answer.
John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. You can reach him at couchbaron@gmail.com.
Discuss this episode in our forums, then see why vloggers Val and Beth think the ladies of Mad Men have it good in TV is the Answer.