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In the off season, Betty has apparently borrowed Peggy's fat suit… I mean, "gained a lot of weight," and while she's chomping Bugles and wearing housedresses, Henry's mother stops by and counsels Betty to take speed to get her girth under control. However, the doctor tells her he needs to examine her before he can prescribe anything, and in doing so, he finds a node on her thyroid. In a panic, she calls Don, who successfully reassures her. While seeing a specialist, Betty runs into an acquaintance with terminal cancer, and Betty expresses her fear that she's going to go the same route, a fear that's enhanced by a passing seer and a dream she has later. The tumor ends up being benign, but the experience clearly affects her. Where it's going to send her character, we can only imagine, but it doesn't stop her from eating Sally's sundae as well as her own.
That stupid Heinz client has an idea about a Rolling Stones jingle, so Harry and Don head out to see the Stones's manager; while waiting, they get stoned with some jailbait. When one of them gets Harry inside, Don puts forth a protective rather than a sexual vibe, and then and Harry fucks it all up, as you might expect, and Don hates him just as much as he ever did.
Possibly to protect his own liver, Pete tosses Mohawk to Roger, who figures that Mohawk is going to need a dedicated copywriter, and puts Peggy on the task of hiring someone. The dude who comes in is Jew York Schticky in the extreme, and Peggy thinks he's crazy and Don will hate him, but Roger wants Peggy to hire him anyway for some babbly bullshit reason. However, he keeps his act under control and charms Don, to Peggy's annoyance, but it looks like the two of them are going to get along. In other news, Pete grandstands in front of the whole agency about how he brought Mohawk in, leaving Roger bitter and ready to quit, but Don distracts him with some #realtalk about Betty's possible cancer, so at least those two still have each other.
Oh, and Don has an African-American secretary, Dawn. We can already see that the almost-homonym is just going to give and give.
Want more? The full recap starts right below!In case you didn't notice, Jon Hamm directed this episode. Let's see if he's as good at this as he is at... everything else.
In the Rye Town Francis Estate, Henry is calling up the stairs to Betty to see if she's ready. Even with Sally and Bobby's help, however, she is not and that's due to the fact that she cannot get into her dress, despite repeated efforts that are making them all very unhappy. You see, the fat suit they put on Elisabeth Moss in Season One has been sitting around, alone and unloved, for years and someone apparently decided to take pity on it and put it on January Jones. And boy, is it as convincing as ever, down to the triple chin she's lugging around. Okay, yes, January Jones was also pregnant while they were filming this, but I don't think she was THAT pregnant. This is a sentiment I didn't -- forgive me -- see coming, but it certainly suggests that her sentiment to Don at the end of the fourth season that things weren't perfect hasn't faded. Henry calls again, so Betty sends the kids away and says she'll get it...
...but when Henry appears upstairs, he finds Betty in bed and she tells him she's not going to be able to go, citing "a woman's thing." Henry points out that he's going to a function with the Junior League of New York and asks if she can "play with pain," but while sports metaphors almost always work in changing a woman's mind, in this case Betty counters that Henry's mother will be there. "It'll be very endearing." If there's any sarcasm there she hides it well, but Henry does less of a good job with any disappointment he might be feeling, although he does give Betty a kiss before leaving. When he's gone, Betty looks, um, distressed. (It's going to be a challenge to avoid the cheap jokes here.)
Someone who is not having trouble getting into her dress is Megan, who's managing that even as she chitchats with her mother in French. After they're off, we learn that she and Don are on their way to a dinner with Raymond, the Heinz guy...
...and his wife, who's asking Megan for dining recommendations given that they're apparently in a French restaurant. After Megan politely explains that she's Canadian, Mrs. Raymond essentially tells them how homogeneous and small Pittsburgh is, which means it came a long way to become the fake home of Queer As Folk thirty something years later. Mrs. Raymond asks how Don and Megan met and I'm surprised they haven't rehearsed a response for this question, as Megan looks Don's way with mild panic on her face. Even though Don simply replies that it was at work, Megan feels the need to add that Don was divorced and while that's not quite as awkward as last week's dance, the statement does hang in the air for a fairly long moment. Mrs. Raymond, however, at least offers that that's none of her business and Megan recovers to ask after their teenaged daughter, who apparently is into the Rolling Stones. This segues into Raymond's idea of using the Stones' song "Time Is On My Side" in an ad, changing "Time" to "Heinz," and even though you can sense Don's internal eye-roll from 1966, it's hardly the worst advertising concept I've ever heard. It's certainly better than his thing with the picket signs last week. Raymond goes on that the Stones are going to be in New York and maybe Don could get them to record the ad while they're in town? Don replies that that's not exactly how it works and even back then I can only imagine the licensing costs would be a pretty penny, but goes on to add that they can certainly make inquiries. Mrs. Raymond then opines that the conversation topic is boring, getting Megan meekly to agree, but I can't imagine the rest of the dinner is going to be any more stimulating given that this is where the scene ends.
Pryce is in Pete's office, apparently waiting for Roger as Pete barks at Clara, who tells him that Caroline informed her that the meeting is in Roger's office. Oh good -- glad the petty turf wars between Pete and Roger aren't over. And in case it's not clear on the page, I'm not kidding. Exasperated, Pete gets up...
...and leads Pryce into Roger's office, wherein he informs Roger that he has good news -- Mohawk is happening. What's more, he thinks Roger should handle the account and Roger crows that they must have asked for him. Pete levelly tells him that they "enjoy your company," which, as I indicated in the recaplet, I take to mean they want someone who can keep up with them. With Pryce around, however, you know it won't all be good news and indeed, he pipes up that Mohawk has recently taken on debt to replace their planes to the tune of $54 million. And what's more, there's a mechanic's strike looming, which I assume has the potential to ground the industry. Pete, however, pipes up that Mohawk likely will be spared any consequence of the latter and plows on that he and Don have been trying to explain to Pryce that Mohawk is a daily business, and as such, they'll need a dedicated copywriter on the account. Ah, I see -- Pete is throwing Roger a bone because he needs him to help push this idea past Pryce. This kid has learned how to play. They grow up so fast! Pryce whinges about the extra expense, but with Roger backing him up, Pete tells him they should just hire someone with retail experience who can crank out local fare ads three times a week and be done with it. Pete then congratulates Roger, who looks extremely pleased with himself. It'd be hard to believe, if this weren't someone who tells anyone who'll listen that he had the vision to discover Don Draper, a man he thought wasn't fit to sell him fur.
Well, whatever you can say about the circumstances that led to the decision, there is now a youngish African-American woman on SCDP's payroll and they've put her with Don, which makes perfect sense given his expressed attitude at the end of last episode and from the standpoint of giving Caroline a break from flitting back and forth between him and Roger. (In theory, they could have given her to Roger, but to quote George Costanza when Kramer offered to let him live with him, "That might not work out.") Also, the new girl's name is "Dawn," and as I indicated in the recaplet, I'm glad to know that as good as this show is, it's not above getting a lot of mileage out of the near-homonym. Harry asks Dawn for Don and is informed that Megan's in there with him; surprisingly, he does not opt to come back later, instead distracting Dawn from her work with an ill-considered turn of phrase in the vein of Pryce's faux pas at the end of last episode. Megan then appears and gives Harry a dismissive greeting that makes me wonder for a moment if she did tell Don what she overheard, but Harry is too excited about his good news -- he got them tickets to the Stones concert at Forest Hills. Don asks for an opinion of their interest and Harry offers that the manager sounded greedy, so they agree to head to the show and take one car. However, when Harry asks if Don would like to meet early for dinner at a "dynamite Eye-talian restaurant with a first-rate veal parm," Don doesn't miss a beat with a flat "Nope." Heh. Harry amends the plan to say that he'll be ready at seven-thirty "having eaten," and by the way, I think I've said it before, but it's a testament to how good Rich Sommer's performance is that I hate Harry as deeply as I do. Don tells Harry to have Dawn put it on his calendar...
...and then we cut to Betty, who's sitting on the couch in an ugly robe that I think she only used to wear if she were sick or massively hung over. She's also chomping away on Bugles and I hope the company got a discount on the product placement given what's going on here. I might as well put this out there now: I am not one of those people who don't find Betty to be an interesting character. Likable, no -- but I do understand her and think she's very consistent. However, this weight gain is -- ahem -- a big deal, given that she's been very clear about how much her mother valued her appearance and how she passed that down to her. Remember how she talked about wanting to disappear once her physical beauty had faded? Remember how disparaging she was of Sally's temporary chubby period? And now she's completely let herself go in her mid-thirties? Not that people don't change, of course; I'm just saying that given how strongly the show has developed the specter of Betty's mother, I think it needs really to show us a strong reason why Betty let this happen. I have faith that it will, but the fact that January Jones's pregnancy opened the door for this storyline makes me raise an eyebrow just a little. I should add that I think it's going to fit very well with what I'm starting to sense is the seasonal theme -- people feeling left behind by the youth culture of the late sixties -- but I want the character motivations to work too.
Anyway, after a few moments (they do seem to be dragging out some scenes longer than usual this season; I'm all for establishing things and letting them breathe, but it didn't take more than a second for me to digest this tableau) there's a knock on the door and Betty sighs knowingly when she opens it and sees that it's "Pauline," Henry's mother, who enters without wasting the time waiting for an invitation would have taken. She explains that she just wanted to see how Betty was feeling and she doesn't betray any evidence of doubting Betty's story, but that's probably because she doesn't really need to. Betty offers that it's so nice of Pauline to stop by "when a phone call would have sufficed," and it's nice to see that Betty has adapted so well to having a mother-in-law. Whatever she may say about Don and his lack of "people," she was probably grateful he didn't come with one of those. Pauline, seemingly sincerely, says that Betty was missed the night before, but becomes more pointed as she tells Betty that while Henry probably doesn't show it, her absence from these functions upsets him. "I want him to be happy. And you being with him is part of that." Well, it's nice that she's switched up the nature of her interfering, I guess. Betty tries to stick to her story that she wasn't feeling well, but Pauline sees right through her (DAMMIT) and says she knows how it happens -- "you get comfortable and you give up a little bit, and then it just gets out of control." Betty looks like these words are hitting home, but when Pauline goes on that there are pills Betty can take, Betty can't resist asking the heavyset Pauline, "Why haven't you taken them?" Now I don't feel so bad about my accidental jokes. Pauline evenly tells Betty she would if she could, but she has a heart condition. "And honestly, at my age I don't have to please men anymore." Betty looks chagrined, but Pauline asks if she doesn't want to get back into that "incredible closet of yours" again, and adds that it'll be easy for Betty. "You're just one of those girls." Given how hard Pauline's trying, I hope Betty doesn't reach for the bag of Bugles until after she leaves.
Peggy enters Don's office thanking Dawn over her shoulder, which gets a chuckle from Roger, who's already inside. Peggy seems not to get it while Don exasperatedly explains that Dawn was the most qualified, but that's not why we're here... although it's reason enough from my point of view. But the meeting is so Don and Roger can bring Peggy up to speed about Mohawk and put her on the job of finding a copywriter for the account. Roger, continuing his battle with Pete even when he's not around to participate, tells Peggy he doesn't just want some hack with retail experience, but "a good-looking version of Don." Heh. Peggy plays along, saying that'll be easy...
...and then it's back to Betty, who's sitting in an examination room when a young, no-nonsense doctor joins her. As is her wont when dealing with an awkward subject, she shoots for "breezy" and misses by a mile in explaining that she's put on "a few" pounds, and hasn't had much luck losing them "for some reason." The doctor is kind enough not to suggest doughnuts as the culprit, instead merely saying what's happened to her is common, but Betty continues the faux-cheerful act as she says that "a friend" told her it'd be easier if the doctor gave her diet pills. The doctor looks her in the eye for the first time as he tells her he won't prescribe them without an examination. As he begins said examination, he goes on that when a housewife has a rapid weight gain, the cause is usual psychological; however, they first have to rule out medical conditions like diabetes and hypothyroidism. Presently he ceases the droning lecture and although that sounds good on paper, the fact that his words are "I don't like that" with his finger on Betty's throat probably override any joy she might feel. He asks her to swallow as Significant Music plays...
...and then Betty's rushing into the Rye Town Francis Estate and calling for Henry. She gets no reply...
...so the thing we see is Don getting a buzz that Betty is on the phone. In a panic, she tells Don that the doctor found "a node or a nodule or something" on her thyroid, and they're not sure what it is, but it's definitely a lump and now she has to go to the city to see a specialist. Don, no stranger to people close to him dying of cancer, takes her seriously and offers to collect the kids, but that subject understandably only magnifies Betty's fears. So Don calls her "Birdy," probably for the first time since they divorced. After a moment, Betty asks him to say what he always says and he's right there: "Everything's gonna be okay." Interesting that the words she questioned right after the Kennedy assassination, the words that might have been as responsible as anything else for her decision to leave him are what she's begging to hear now. When they disconnect, however, Betty still seems terrified, while Don looks straight-up sad. He does not, however, run straight to his bar, at least not while the scene is still going on.
In the copywriters' room, Peggy is reviewing portfolios and noting with some heat how many of them contain knockoffs of the Volkswagen "Lemon" ad. Stan is equally unimpressed and Peggy boredly flips book after book onto the loser pile until she comes across one that has "Judge not, lest ye be judged" embossed on it. Amused and backed up by Stan's opinion that the irony is promising, she opens it and is just as impressed by the contents. Stan agrees, but thinks Peggy shouldn't consider hiring anyone with the potential to upstage her and I'm only liking Stan more for his protectiveness, even though it's unsurprisingly crudely expressed. Peggy, however, says she likes working with talented people, but Stan points out that this guy will be in direct competition with her. "Are you suddenly not competitive, the chick who races people to the toilet?" HA! Peggy doesn't object to that characterization, but does ignore Stan's advice and says she's bringing the guy in. It's not just because I love Stan that I think he's going to be proven at least partially right, although it doesn't hurt.
Betty's in the bathtub, making a very concerted attempt to relax, when Henry knocks and asks if he can come in. She gives him leave, so he enters and tells her she's all set for the day at eleven. She's surprised at the quick timetable and not really in a good way, as I think she was hoping to have a little more time in purgatory before having to deal with potentially life-threatening findings. Henry, however, thinks there's little point in waiting and while he's right on the merits, I wonder if she's going to appreciate his businesslike approach regardless of what happens. It certainly doesn't seem to compare favorably with Don's reaction. Henry asks her to come to bed, offering to get her some brandy in the process, but she won't get out of the tub without him turning around despite his sincere assurances that she's beautiful. Eventually, he obliges, and apparently they used a body double for this shot that lasts like one second, so I'm not sure why they bothered. We get it -- moo. Henry tells Betty he's going to have a brandy...
...and then it's an odd cross-fade (the fade starts before he even speaks that line; it's a weird choice for this show that prizes its dialogue so much) into a woman recognizing Betty in the specialist's office. Betty greets her as "Joyce," and I couldn't have told you this, but she was one of the housewives all the way back in the early Season 1 episode "Marriage Of Figaro," the one with Sally's fiasco of a birthday party. (By the way, what happened to Polly along the way? Is she slumming it on the streets of New York with Chauncy?) Also, she apparently was at the house for the fundraiser Betty threw for Henry in "Wee Small Hours." Anyway, Joyce does not look so great, but the nurse puts pressure on them to get to their respective physicians, so Joyce asks Betty to lunch afterward and Betty reluctantly agrees. Given where they've just met, I'm guessing they'll skip the small talk.
Peggy enters the conference room and greets "Michael Ginsberg," whose good looks are marred by unkempt, spiky hair and a plaid sports jacket of the type I've only ever seen Rodney Dangerfield and Don Rickles attempt. And that's apt, as the guy is only a joke or two away from being a walking Catskills routine, speaking to Peggy in a volume that would be appropriate for one of your larger comedy clubs with a certain Jewish Noo Yawk accent to boot. Peggy tries to keep her smile intact in the face of this bullshit, but Michael keeps going on about Don and how he can't wait to meet Don and what's Don like and will Don be stopping by, despite Peggy's clear statement that he's got to get through her first. When he does some shticky thing involving pulling his résumé from his sleeve and claiming, I think, that he's related to Allan Ginsberg, Peggy's like, thanks for stopping by, but Michael at least has probably heard this tone enough to know that the wind has just turned cold. So he changes his tune (if not his volume) saying advertising isn't his day job yet, but he's got no hobbies, interests, family or friends, so if hired, he'll live at work. Peggy: "Then you're like everyone else." Hee. Michael gets off a good reply by offhandedly saying he's never been accused of that, but he adds that he's really trying. Peggy softens, but tells him he can't act like he just did with Don. Michael: "Like what?" Peggy stares uncomprehendingly, trying to penetrate that simple question's delicious ambiguity, but eventually gives up and tells him she'll call him. He does pop up to get the door for her, but then compares his work to Mein Kampf. I have the feeling I'm going to be telling you not to ask in regard to a lot of things that come out of this kid's mouth.
At lunch, Betty is already on her gallows-humor game, as she offers that she's got "the only kind that makes you fatter." Joyce tells her she's sure she's fine and asks when the test results are due, to which Betty chuckles mirthlessly that she doesn't remember. Betty asks Joyce if she's told her children and she says no, adding that she kind-of-jokes with Hank that he should just tell the kids she got hit by a car. "It'd be easier than saying goodbye." Betty's deeply affected and admits that she'd be leaving behind a big mess -- Henry's mother is domineering and Don's wife is only "twenty" (she's actually twenty-six, but her point is taken). Referring to the kids, she opines, "They'll never hear a nice word about me again." Consistent, if maddening. Betty then says she has to ask -- what is it like, knowing death is so near? Joyce considers that for a long moment and then tells her it's like being way out in the ocean, alone and trying to stay afloat and you see people on the shore, but they get farther and farther away. And you struggle to stay afloat, because it's natural, but soon you get tired and give in "and hope you go straight down." Betty thinks that's horrible, probably because it is, but Joyce casually adds that no one's ever asked, which is pretty horrible too when you think of it. A woman dressed in fortune-teller garb then greets them and offers them a reading and this looks like a pretty upscale place to allow its patrons to be accosted by random people peddling such services, but perhaps to lighten things up, Joyce encourages Betty to have her tea leaves read. The woman takes a look and tells Betty she's a "great soul," and she means so much to the people around her. "You're a rock." Okay, it may be rude to laugh when these words send Betty into tears, but I can only defend her so far. The woman looks taken aback, but Joyce pays her and sends her on her way before kindly pouring Betty more tea. I just hope Betty at least remembers to attend the funeral.
Roger comes in to see Peggy, much the worse for wear after yet another drinks meeting with Mohawk, and asks if she hired Michael (I'm assuming she had told Roger she was bringing him in). She tells him no because he was crazy, but Roger thinks that could be an asset in the job. Peggy thinks Don will hate Michael -- but Peggy, I feel compelled to point out that you've been complaining about Don being too nice. What better opportunity to get him back to himself? However, Roger informs her he already told Mohawk this was happening, because he "wanted to smooth the ground about working with a Jew. Turns out everyone's got one now." I see his unintentional self-imposed affirmative action has left him a changed man; to wit, he tells her that it makes the agency look more modern, "between this and 'It's always darkest before the Dawn' over there. At least this one we're hiring on purpose." I see now that I should have saved my Don Rickles comparison for Roger. Peggy offers to find "another Jew, if that's what you care about," and Roger astutely echoes Stan in assuring her that no one's going to replace her, but Peggy says she's not worried about that -- she just thinks Don will hate Michael and she'll get the blowback from that. Roger, however, says he'll handle Don...
...but not before Megan does, as Don joins her in the living room, dressed no less conservatively than he does for work and given that this is the Stones night, it's no surprise that Megan opines that he looks "so square [he's] got corners." Don tells her he's got to look like The Man (heh), and after some talk about Betty that does not include her medical news, Don heads out...
...and then he and Harry are pushing their way through a crowd of kids in the backstage area. Harry tries to talk his way by a security guy and gets no information other than that the Stones are not yet on the premises, so they settle in to wait, whereupon they're accosted by two pot-smoking girls who look not a day over fifteen. Harry tells them he and Don are in advertising and the girls make a Bewitched comparison, likening Don to Darrin (actually "Derwood") and Harry to Mr. Kravitz and while I don't find those particularly apt, the idea of Harry married to Gladys Kravitz is funny enough to make me giggle without benefit of marijuana. In the interest of fair reporting, however, I must tell you that Don does not share my opinion, although he could just be peeved about the Derwood thing.
Betty's reading in bed when Henry joins her; he seems very loving and she puts down her book and kisses him with intention. After a moment, he asks if she really wants to. Apparently it's been a while, but she's into it, even though he adds that he thought their drought was what she wanted. I don't want to tell you how to live Henry, but maybe that's the sort of thing you should verbally check on every once in a while?
One of the jailbait girls has disappeared and the other one, who I assume drew the short straw, is listening to Harry tell some ridiculous story about Charlton Heston, nudity, and VapoRub. Her friend saves her from a fate worse than death as she comes back and grabs Harry's hand, telling him they're being let in and they're gone in a flash, leaving Don with the first girl, who asks if Don really thinks he's going to get the Stones to do a TV ad. Don informs her they did one for a cereal in England only three years earlier, when "you were probably what, eleven?" She smiles, so I guess she really is only fourteen or so, which thankfully I think is too young for even Don; he backs that idea up by asking, after she removes his tie and puts it around her neck: "You see someone do that in a movie?" Heh. She tells him he needs to relax, which is probably true, but he's never more relaxed than when he's pumping people for free market research, so he asks her what she likes about the Stones. The girl, however, is more interested in getting a business card from Don to use to try to get them past the doorman and when he obliges her, she heads off. We don't see him quizzing other bystanders about their musical tastes, but he didn't get where he is by wasting opportunities.
Betty appears in the kitchen to find Henry and the three kids dressed in funeral attire and it's fairly obvious it's a dream even before we focus on the tea leaves in the cup in front of Gene. Pauline silently enters with pancakes as Henry mutters the single word "If" over and over and then Sally makes it clear even to Betty what's going on as she gets up and turns Betty's chair over and puts it up on the table. This show really should stay away from David Lynch territory, but at least this was much briefer than the disaster of "The Fog." Getting It, Betty apologizes to Sally, presumably for leaving her, but her words fall on deaf ears...
...and then Betty awakens to Henry. An overhead shot lets us see what might be a new determination in her eye, although that could simply be due to the break in her dry spell.
Despite what I said earlier, Don's chilling with a drink (you can see a poster for Joan Baez hanging to him and I think she is even less likely to shill for Heinz than the Stones) when the girl returns; Don asks if she thinks they're going to show and she tells him to relax, but he's actually worried about her in a rather fatherly way (with the youth culture here serving to define him generationally), and doesn't want her giving it up to some rock star at her age. It's too bad "Sister Christian" hadn't been written yet, because I'd love to hear him sing it to her. She does look moved by his concern, but the moment is trod upon by Harry excitedly appearing with a contract and saying that "they" were super-excited to do it. It's indicative of how useless the show knows Harry is that it can't let us think for more than two seconds that he's done something right before a furor in the other direction lets us know that whoever Harry was talking to, it was not the Rolling Stones or anyone affiliated with them. Harry hangs his head, but Don can't resist a good line when it's at Harry's expense: "Who were you talking to?"
In the car, Harry's somewhat humbled and says they could try again the day at Asbury Park, but Don thinks it's a bad job even if you discount the part where he'd have to spend more time with Harry. And speaking of which, they're apparently near Harry's place, as Don is exhaustedly begging Harry's stoned ass to get out, but first Harry has to bitch about his home life and talk about how fun the young girls are. Don expresses another protective sentiment toward that age group and then Harry suggests they do "this" again. If I were Don, I probably would have asked if he meant we'd go out and sign the wrong band again, but Don's weary "Bye, Harry" has a lot to recommend it too.
Don's asleep and still in his clothes, when Megan wakes him up with a kiss -- they have plans to go to Fire Island and meet her friends. It's Sunday, right? That's not a quick day trip, which might explain why he tries to beg off, telling her about Betty's potential bad news. Megan is sympathetic, but opines he should have told her immediately and his explanation that Betty wouldn't have wanted her to know doesn't exactly mollify her. She points out that the bad news didn't stop him from going to the concert; when he sighs in defeat, she softens and points out that there's nothing he can do and he seems to see the wisdom in that. Of course, if he wanted to make a thing of it, he could point out that Fire Island is slightly farther away than Forest Hills, but he probably doesn't want to get into a huge fight with his wife two episodes in a row.
Oh I guess it's the Fourth of July, so if Monday's a holiday, the trip to Fire Island makes a lot more sense. Bobby and Sally run around, sparklers in hand, in front of the Rye Town Francis Estate as Betty holds Gene on her lap and seems to appreciate the moment. And sure, I get paid to come up with jokes, but the lady who's unhappily gained a lot of weight smiling her way through what she's afraid might be her last Independence Day? I feel pretty comfortable in admitting I've got nothing.
Apparently, Don survived Fire Island, as he's in his office checking out some of Michael's work as Peggy and Michael sit silently. Don is impressed with one ad in particular, but when Michael starts to explain that he got inspired while at a peep show in Times Square, Peggy loudly wonders if they shouldn't wait for Roger. Don's basically like, if I ever waited for Roger I'd never get anything done, and when she keeps butting in, he has to tell her to shut up and let Michael talk. Of course, Peggy expects this to be a disaster, but Michael is able to spin the straw of his normal personality into gold, telling Don that he loved the infamous tobacco letter; not only was it funny, it was basically nothing short of a phenomenon and it made him want to be a part of SCDP. He wraps up his pitch by complimenting both Peggy and Don (referring to Peggy as "Margaret," for good respectful measure), and the New Don is obviously sold. Just as obviously, Peggy is kind of bent at how effectively Michael presented a different face to Don, probably thinking that he's far more of a threat than she gave him credit for. But there's nothing she can do when Don tells her to take Michael to Pryce and compliments her good work -- she can't very well explain that she's annoyed that the candidate she hand-picked, as far as Don knows, did well. When Peggy emerges from Don's office, she finds Michael admiring the view and she sucks her imaginary lemon twice as hard as she has to tell Roger it went well and hear in return that he's proud of her. Peggy tells "Mr. Ginsberg" to follow her...
...and when they're out of Roger's earshot, she lays into Michael for changing up his act with Don. He points out that he was just following her advice, but she expresses fear at his ability to control his craziness. She's forced to admit, however, that he got the job and he's endearingly excited, although his efforts to get her to be happy for him are at best a limited success. Then again, the same could be said about his efforts in his wardrobe.
In the Rye Town Francis Estate (that daytime exterior shot showed it to be even bigger than I thought; it looks four times the size of the old place in Ossining), Henry's busy with work or a crossword or something as Betty sits nervously; Henry then gets a call in which he calls "Romney" a clown (George, the Michigan governor and Mitt's father, but still funny). It's no joke though, when the other phone rings and Henry hastily gets off his call as Betty answers. She takes whatever news is given impassively and thanks the caller for getting back, and then she takes a moment to process before telling Henry that the tumor is benign. He holds her and tells her how happy he is and she does laugh, but any euphoria is short-lived as she opines that she's back to just being fat. He points out that she's exhausted and tells her he doesn't see her that way, but she points out that his mother is obese. Shockingly, he doesn't love that assessment, but doesn't dwell on it, saying he feels like he got a Scrooge-like glimpse at a terrible eventuality that now won't come to pass and as she breaks down in tears, he holds her again. I don't often agree with Henry, Betty, but maybe a nap would do you good?
At SCDP, Pete has gathered everyone by the main entrance and he pulls a cloth off a model of a Mohawk airplane as he grandly announces that the company is returning to them. After all the applause, Pete goes on how happy he was to be able to sign them, a statement to which Roger gives a serious "Girl, you DIDN'T" look, but he sure did and he even goes on that he's hired a new copywriter. "And of course, Mr. Sterling will be handling the day-to-day, but rest assured -- everything he knows, I'll know." DAMN. The private little war they've been fighting is one thing, but to render Roger irrelevant in front of the whole company is another. Like I said, the kid came to play. Pete uncorks some champagne as Roger bitterly tells Peggy to forget everything he said before; gesturing Pete's way, he seethes, "That's the last guy I hired." I can't quite see Michael being as successful at climbing the ladder as Pete while insisting on wearing those jackets, but Peggy should still probably heed the advice. Roger stomps off, but Don chases after him...
...and the two of them end up in Don's office, wherein Don makes them both a drink and agrees that what Pete just pulled was disrespectful, but he's grown up. "What did you expect?" Roger says he's tired of trying to prove he has any value and if I weren't so close to the end here I'd discuss several ways I take issue with calling what he's been doing "trying," but he's obviously feeling sorry for himself in the extreme, so Don decides to take this conversation in a different direction, telling Roger that Betty has cancer -- maybe. Even Roger is not so self-centered to be unaffected by this news and he offers to make a call, but Don tells him Betty's probably got the results already. "I'm the one that has to call." Interesting that he feels he's the one that should call -- I was surprised on first viewing that Betty didn't call him, but if he's not expecting it, I guess I shouldn't either. Roger listens as Don goes on that he's afraid that the kids might grow up without a mother and while Megan would try her best, it wouldn't be the same. Interesting that even with his somewhat ugly divorce, the rocky relationship between Betty and Sally, and the fact that part of his attraction to Megan was her ability with kids, he still recognizes how destabilizing it would be to lose Betty. Roger has no answers only, as he leaves, this question: "When is everything gonna get back to normal?" The question reflects Roger's obvious wish, given the state of his life, that time would reverse itself. But Don, also sensing the seasonal theme, knows full well that it won't and decides to face whatever's coming by picking up the phone...
...and calling for Betty. However, he gets Henry, who's none too pleased when he realizes that Betty must have confided her news to Don. He gruffly tells Don that Betty's fine and Don's palpable relief can only add to Henry's ill mood about the whole thing, so he gets off with a lame excuse and then, when Betty calls down asking who it was, tells her, "Nobody." It's no wonder he crafts high-level political campaigns with quick and sophisticated thinking like that.
In his office, Don takes a moment to recover, but any reverie is cut short by Megan entering. Don tells her the news and she says she's glad, but goes on to offer this: "She just needs to have something to call you about." Surprisingly uncharitable coming from her, yet given the interaction we saw this episode, it's hard to think she's completely wrong. Don doesn't address this, instead asking if he can take Megan to dinner and she's all too happy to accept...
...while in the land of less-luxurious dinner plans, Michael arrives home to a tiny apartment with a double lock on the front door, where we learn that he lives with his very Jewish father, who's about a head taller than Michael. Given that his father reacts to Michael's good news by A) suggesting they both get hookers and B) reciting a Hebrew prayer, we might have our answer to why Michael told Peggy he has no family. Most people can handle their friends' parents doing one or the other of those, but not both at the same time.
Back at the Rye Town Francis Estate, Betty and Sally are having ice cream sundaes, but Sally won't finish hers, saying she's full. When she goes to watch TV, Betty reaches for Sally's unfinished sundae and as she continues to get farther from her wonderful closet, "Sixteen Going On Seventeen" jauntily and ironically kicks us to the credits, covering the sound of Betty's mother spinning in her grave. See you time.
John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. His current film, "The Trouble With Bliss," starring Michael C. Hall, Lucy Liu, Brie Larson, and Peter Fonda, can be seen this coming week in theaters in Phoenix, Palm Springs, Miami, and Denver, as well as on iTunes and other digital platforms and cable VOD everywhere. (Facebook and Twitter here.) You can email him at couchbaron@gmail.com, follow him on Twitter at https://twitter.com/couchbaron, or check out his blog, "Pull Up A Chair," which he'd just love for you to stop by.
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