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Sally's being a teenager in the best way she knows how, so Betty decides to dump her off at Don's so Sally doesn't have to join them on a ski trip, as is Sally's wish. With him and Megan both busy, Sally gets to miss school on Monday, so she takes the opportunity to invite Glen down to the empty apartment for that morning. They go to the Museum of Natural History, whereupon she tells Glen she doesn't like him like that, and then she gets her period. Best date ever! The trauma sends her running into Betty's arms, while Glen and Megan end up panicking together, and when Betty calls to gloat about how Sally came home because she needed her, Megan is far too relieved to take offense. She invites Glen to stay until his train back to school that evening, and we'll return to that.
In the wake of the initial part of what I'm going to tell you about involving Lane, Don vents to Roger about how they need to think bigger even than Jaguar and Mohawk, and confesses what Ed Baxter told him about the effect of the letter. Roger, of all people, tells Don he needs to believe in himself, so Don decides to take Baxter on full force. Ken shows surprising and welcome bitterness toward Pete as he maneuvers to get involved without compromising himself with Cynthia, and then Don kills it at the meeting, so we'll see how that goes.
Jaguar wants a fee structure instead of commissions, and in investigating the pros and cons of such a change, Bertram finds the canceled check Lane forged and accuses Don of going around the other partners' back. Don covers for Lane, but only to ask for his resignation, and even though Lane makes the case that it was a bridge loan, and that Don should be merciful since he's been broke ever since he had to surrender money to keep the company afloat in the wake of Lucky Strike leaving, Don stands firm. Soon after, Rebecca surprises Lane with a Jaguar, and the only way Lane can up the crushing irony quotient is to attempt to commit suicide in it by gas – but the car gets the last laugh by hilariously refusing to start. But that's a fake-out too, as after the weekend, the SCDP highers-up discover that Lane has hanged himself in his office, and we finally see that all the death imagery the season has thrown at as foreshadowed a very real conclusion. It's dreadfully disturbing when Pete, Roger, and Don cut Lane down, and when Roger reads what he thinks is Lane's suicide note, he discovers that it's merely a boilerplate resignation letter. Shattered by the revelation that this is one secret he's probably going to have to keep, not to mention that this is now two people he's caused to hang themselves, when Don stumbles home, he's happy for the distraction of driving Glen back to school…or, at Glen's description of what would make him happy, letting Glen drive the both of them there. Lane Pryce, ladies and gentlemen. We may never have known quite what to do with you, but I hope we'll keep your name on the door.
Want more? The full recap starts right below!Man, there is so much to say about this one. Might as well not waste time, given how -- as we'll see -- precious it is. But if you'd like to read Jared Harris's thoughts about his character and this episode, check this out.
Don's in the barbershop when some guy from one of the also-ran agencies in the Jaguar competition (It's "Jed Covington" from, I believe, "Dancer"), who good-naturedly tells the Italian barber about Don winning Jaguar before complaining that his own Creative didn't work to get the job done. Don doesn't pay that much attention until Covington tells him how impressed Jaguar was with Pete, whereupon he turns his head so quickly it's a good thing for us all that the barber didn't have scissors pointed in his direction.
In a restaurant, Lane is sitting with an older gentleman, who tells him that for those of them at the 4A's (American Association of Advertising Agencies), Lane is completely American. And I'd love to avoid referencing the event that's coming all too quickly, but if I wait until it happens I'll end up spewing ten pages of nonsense, so better to mete it out: This is an interesting idea, because it's not like many Americans don't commit suicide, but Lane's preoccupation with other people discovering his shame seems a bit more British to me than this guy might have guessed. On the other hand... well, all in good time. The point is, the 4A's guy has been impressed with Lane's conduct or knowledge or something, to the point where he'd like to offer him an unelected position as Head of their Fiscal Control Committee. Lane, perhaps thinking of his crimes, suggests that there are others more deserving, but the guy asserts that Lane kept SCDP afloat after Lucky Strike left them and whatever he did, the 4A's could use some of it. He also tells Lane that he and his wife will get to go to the Greenbrier and I'm crying laughing that The Bachelorette chose a place mentioned on a show as retro as Mad Men for one of its "romantic" venues. Anyway, Lane happily accepts...
...while back at SCDP, as some freelancers file out from the conference room having presumably presented something, Joan tells Scarlett a.k.a. the New Joan (HAAAAAAA HA HA), a couple things of that she needs to be mindful if she's going to run the partners' meetings effectively and one of those is that there should be Danish for the attendees, a point with which Bertram vociferously and hilariously agrees. Scarlett at least keeps a smile on her face as she navigates these new waters and when they start in on "ongoing" business, Pete announces that Jaguar wants to explore the idea of going with a fee structure instead of the current commission setup. No one save Lane has the slightest idea what that means, so he explains that presently they get compensation from the fifteen percent commission on their media purchases plus the markup on production costs. Under a fee structure, the client only pays for the work being done, plus a small percentage of profit that's subject to negotiation. No one really follows this, but Don thinks if the client is asking for it, it can't be good for the agency and he's probably right. Pete asks what would happen if Dunlop Tires wanted that structure and everyone thinks he's being hypothetical, but no -- they called the night before and want a meeting. After some hilariously impatient discussion of whether they've moved on to new business, Joan asks what the billings would be and Pete smiles that they're only a little under a million, but "every Jaguar wears them so you know they've heard good things about us." Bertram thanks Pete, but when Scarlett asks if they don't need to have a vote on the fee vs. commission point, Don points out that he already said no. "Or should I leave so you all can do whatever you want?" It's kind of old-school now, but so is this show AND that remark, so: awkward. Even Joan looks down at that one, but Bertram pipes up to move they investigate what's involved, Joan seconds that and the motion is unanimously carried. Pete then sardonically wonders if they should go back to old business again or "do we have any birthdays?" Hee. But hey, running a meeting with this many people is hard! And that's it for the scene.
(I set myself up for a joke there and then I couldn't go through with it. This is only going to get tougher.)
Apparently the Francis household is going away for the weekend on a ski trip and I wonder if any of the hobgoblins that haunt the place will be tagging along. Sally, however, does not appreciate being made to wear used boots and while that may be understandable, the bratty way she expresses it is so typically teenage that I find myself drifting toward Betty's side in the argument. Or as close to Betty's side in an argument with Sally as I get, which isn't very close -- but you still get the point. Betty snaps that Sally is coming and she's not going to sit in the lodge and read a book either, but Sally shoots right back that she doesn't need to go and watch the rest of them "laugh your heads off," and she's old enough to stay home by herself. And I'd agree with her, if we weren't going to be witness to a particularly graphic argument against. Sally asks to go to Don's and when Betty inquires as to whether he and Megan ever take her on vacation, Sally snits that they took her to Disneyland "where it's warm." She doesn't add that it's the place where fathers meet wives they actually like, but Betty must know what she's getting at and she seethes that sure, Sally can go hang out with her, because she lets Sally do whatever she wants. Sally: "She lets me eat whatever I want." Betty takes in this slam on her weight gain and adds it to the knife-twisting about Don and Sally's deft conversational brattiness...
...and we cut to Don's intercom buzzing. Hee. Betty loudly asks Don if he'd have any problem with her strangling Sally and I love her obvious, petulant attempt to create a bond with Don over the issue, but while Don is willing to play along to a degree ("Do you think we should have this conversation on the phone?"), he's not too thrilled when Betty goes on to inform him that she's dropping Sally off and by the way, "it's your child bride she wants to spend time with." However, Betty will brook no dissent and Bertram has showed up to talk to Don anyway, so the phone call comes to an end before one or both receivers melt from the vitriol. Bertram, whom you'll remember has accused Don of being cynical, craven, and lacking the stomach for a partnership, tells Don that he went over the books in an attempt to evaluate the pros and cons of the proposed change in billing and in doing so he found "this canceled check" -- he tosses it onto Don's desk -- "in an unopened statement." Don, of course, has no idea about it and takes in the fact that Lane endorsed it as Bertram obliviously goes on that he thought they agreed there would be no bonuses and Don agrees that's true and says he'll take care of it. Don's reasonably evident surprise and his failure to offer any defense of his ostensible decision should appear odd, especially when you consider that Lane being the only person involved is simpler in many ways than Don and Lane conspiring together. But Bertram would have to credit Lane with having committed more than one felony and he'd rather stick with his image of Don: "You can't keep being the good little boy while the adults run this business!" If this is a shot at Don's attempts to shield Joan last week, it's pretty low even as a tit-for-tat for Don's comment in the meeting just now. Don silently takes being upbraided for something with which he had nothing to do and doesn't even look like he wants to slap Bertram that hard. When the old coot is gone though, Don immediately buzzes for Dawn to get Lane in there and then goes to his bar to make a plan in what little time he has. And, amazingly, we stay with the scene without a break, but I'm going to take one regardless because this is going to be almost as tough for me as it is for these two.
Okay, so Lane comes in all jolly with the news that he accepted the 4A's position on behalf of the firm, but Don doesn't even hear him as he thrusts the check into Lane's face. A moment of indecision of how to play it is all Don needs to know the worst and Lane does not exactly cover himself in glory when he tries to say that Don obviously signed the check, as if Don wouldn't remember the discussion they would have had to have before signing off on a check of that size for anyone. When Don refuses to waver, Lane tries to project offended dignity, but his heart isn't in that either. Don gets up, pours them both a drink and invites him to come clean, adding that he wants to know if the check in his hand is the only forgery. Lane gives him a long look, takes an even longer drink and breathes that it was supposed to be a thirteen-day loan, but the bonuses were delayed and then canceled and then they wanted the money for Joan. "And I'm the one who's committed the crime?" Leaving aside the fact that Don is not exactly the person to blame for the Joan thing, if Lane has any recourse here it would be utter honesty and he should be clear about his lie about the surplus as well. Not sure it would help, but to see him only admit the truth as far as he's been caught here is tough to watch and gives credence to Don's imminent pronouncement that he can't trust him.
Don asks if Lane has a gambling problem, but Lane bites out that he owed taxes on his portfolio, which he liquidated to put fifty thousand dollars into the company as per his partnership agreement after Lucky Strike left. Well, I should have realized that this is where Lane's financial problems started, but I'm surprised he agreed to this plan so readily at the time if it was going to cost him even more than he had. Also, now that I think about it, he did screw up in not negotiating to be exempt from further contributions, given that he didn't get rich off the sale as the rest of them did -- given how much they needed him to get away from the old SC, I think he could have swung that. Which, by the way, is a little detail I hope Joan was smart enough to catch -- there's obviously no way she could afford to put in a partnership contribution, although the likelihood that it'll be needed seems far less now. Don wonders why Lane didn't just ask if he needed the money so badly, but Lane -- his voice raised now -- says he didn't think it was worth "suffering the humiliation for a thirteen-day loan! That was my money!" I mean, look, it's not that he has no point at all, but we're still obviously talking about multiple felonies and he's also showing no contrition so as much as it hurts, I have to back Don's play when after some long moments he tells Lane he's going to need his resignation. Any color that's left in Lane's face drains as he realizes how badly he just fucked up and he tries to tell Don he's sorry and he's not sure how it came to this, but the company is in great shape and he'll make good on what he owes by Easter, even if he has to pull his son out of school. Don, however, points out that Lane not only embezzled money, he forged Don's signature and Lane tries to spin that bit by saying he chose Don because he's always been the most decent to him? I mean, the statement may be true as far as Don goes, but I still think Lane's only concern is whose signature was easiest to copy. Don counters that what he's doing is the most decent course available to him given the circumstances, to which Lane, suddenly half in tears, bursts out that he's never been compensated for his role in the company and he's operated on a loss for three years. He whispers for Don to please reconsider and honestly from a business standpoint, Don very well might, as Lane still knows a lot of stuff the rest of them don't and it's very likely that Don would have scared Lane straight for life here.
But despite having been shown mercy in a related -- if not completely similar -- situation, Don, his voice dropping, says he's sorry but he can't trust Lane, although he will cover the money he owes. Lane, an edge of contempt mixing with his sadness and frustration, mirthlessly laughs that seven thousand five hundred dollars is nothing to Don. "Do you know how the rest of us live?" Don, however, elects not to go into his destitute upbringing, instead asking Lane to imagine what would happen if a client found out what he'd done, as opposed to the PR cakewalk they're going to have with what actually occurs. The situation gets even worse as Lane realizes he'll lose his visa and he desperately adds that he can't go back to England "like this." And while this partially backs up what I was saying about his fear of disgrace, the flipside is that he obviously loves New York on its own merits and doesn't want to leave. Moreover though, we've heard Lane talk about how he was a nobody in England; now he'll be a shamed nobody in what was still in many ways a social caste system. There will be no pulling himself up by his bootstraps back across the pond. Lane breaks down as he wonders what he'll tell his wife and son, but Don replies that Lane will say it didn't work out and that the thing will be better. "Because it always is." Not to beat this into the ground, but once again I think we're seeing not only a character difference between them but a cultural one as well. Don goes on to say that Lane can take the weekend to "think of an elegant exit" and adds that Bertram doesn't know anything, although I have to wonder if this supposed bonus will later weigh on his mind. He stands and waits for Lane to collect himself and the desperate, wild, almost animal looks Lane casts around the room are a wonderful choice to convey his state of mind. Eventually, he gets to his feet and holds out a hand for Don before confessing he feels lightheaded. Don: "That's relief. I've started over a lot, Lane. This is the worst part." If Lane wonders how Don came to be the Guru of Reinventing Yourself, he doesn't ask, instead smiling defeatedly and heading for the door. When he reaches it though, he pauses -- his smile gone -- and gives Don one last long look before heading out. I'd guess that Don would long remember that image, were another one that's still to come not SO MUCH WORSE.
In her office, Joan looks up to see Lane in her doorway, an inscrutable expression on his face. Noting one of the glasses from Don's bar in his hand, she asks if they were celebrating the 4A's news, but it's clear from his reaction that little development already seems like it happened a million years ago. Lane clearly hasn't gotten over his, well, "light-headedness" and although at first they exchange some comfortable banter about Joan's upcoming vacation plans, which suggests Joan's gratitude for his advice is untempered, he soon makes a lewd comment that's most unappreciated and results in her requesting in no uncertain terms that he vacate her office. Unbowed, he lurches his way out and she rolls her eyes at his uncharacteristic loutishness...
...but when he reaches his office, any bravado has gone from him as he looks out at the snow falling liberally in front of his window and then sits and looks around the place, at the New York Mets banner and the little replica of the Statue Of Liberty, again looking like a frightened animal. It's as good a time to say it as any: Joan had it right when she told him he needed to stop being so afraid. If only he could have taken her advice. He spins in his chair and regards the view one more time...
...while Don, not exactly calmed down either, marches into Roger's office and pours himself a drink without waiting for his partner to get off the phone with his latest, as Bertram would call her, trollop. Don, of course, has bigger matters on his mind than Roger's love life and I will say, as rough a day as it's been, it's a mitigating factor that his preoccupation allowed him not to hear a word Roger said about his latest squeeze. Don launches into a complaint about how they've just been chasing "piddly shit," and he wants to move into the big leagues in their industry and not be a partner in a firm that can't even give Christmas bonuses. I suppose he's motivated by the idea that if they make a lot more money, there will be no need for their employees and partners to engage in prostitution, forgery and felony theft. It's noble enough, but in the end it's a more complex example of Don just throwing money at a problem, although at least the problem isn't flinching this time. Roger brightly asks what happened to Don's big inspirational speech and admits that although he doesn't like Pete, he's turned things around for them. Don, however, feels that Pete thinks too small: "I don't want Jaguar, I want Chevy. I don't want Mohawk, I want American. I don't want Dunlop, I want Firestone." Well, I'm glad he's being honest, although I wonder how he'll take it if he has to fire Mohawk a second time. Roger, with some heat, points out that he spent the whole American Cancer Society dinner "with [his] hand in Jim Barton's pocket," which would have been really awkward for Jim Barton given what we saw Julia Ormond doing and then Don told him he was wasting his time, so Don has to come clean about what Ed Baxter revealed about the Lucky Strike letter killing their chances. Roger is aghast that Don let "that wax figurine" (sorry Ray Wise, but hee) discourage him, but Don thinks he might have been right. Roger, however, tells him what he needs to hear: "You used to love 'no'. 'No' used to make you hard." And that second gives us a title for our Roger/Don fanfic. Roger redeems himself from puerile jokes both his and mine, however, when he tells Don that things have changed -- he just beat out two huge firms "for that shitty car account." In the future, I can imagine Don's grandkids asking him to retell the story about the time Roger Sterling put things in perspective for him. Roger buzzes for Caroline to get the Firestone guy on the phone, but Don, emboldened by Roger's words and a moment's consideration, tells Roger to get Ed Baxter himself. Roger thinks that's both unnecessary and unwise and while he thinks Ed would meet with Don "even if it's just to watch you eat shit," it's complicated -- what about Ken and his reluctance to work with his family? It's interesting that Roger seems to have a soft spot for Ken on this point, especially after he chewed him out a few episodes for his apparent lack of commitment to the job, but Don's too busy being unimpressed to notice: "Then fire him." Even Roger looks thrown by that one, which is another thing you don't see every day.
Megan answers the doorbell to find Sally and she's not entirely jazzed, a mixture of "Great, now how am I going to get all my work done" and "Thanks for telling me, Don" masking any enthusiasm she might be feeling. Megan does ask why Sally didn't want to go skiing, so Sally takes the opportunity to say how much she hates Betty and how she's "such a phony." Megan firmly tells her that's not true, which means she has a better acting teacher than I thought. When Sally asks if they can have tea, Megan can't help betraying some reluctance to lose her entire afternoon before she tells Sally to go put the water on. I'd blame Don for not having had Dawn call Megan, if I thought Dawn were actually still on the show.
Roger turns up at what we'll later learn is the Hemisphere Club and apologizes to Ken for being late and maybe Peggy's departure has sharpened Ken's tongue: "I don't mind waiting twenty minutes for an unspecified meeting with my boss. I mean, it's not like your imagination wouldn't run wild." Heh. Roger gives a little chuckle, which I translate as "let's actually put a pin in the question of whether I'm firing you" and wastes no further time in telling Ken that they're going after Ed. Ken neutrally reminds Roger he can't help with that, but Roger tells him that's great -- it's how they want it actually, since of course they don't want Ken to jeopardize his relationship with Cynthia. Aghast at the machinations, Ken asks what Roger thinks will happen when Ed calls him following SCDP's outreach and Roger supposes that Ken could simply not answer the phone. I'm guessing Ken's story is going to be about a robot boss who painfully learns the value of family. Ken, however, shows that he's learned a thing or two from working alongside the likes of Pete Campbell, as he pointedly acknowledges that Roger's play is very smart, and then moves straight on to disingenuousness as he supposes there's nothing he can do to muck it all up now. Now it's Roger's turn to be caught on his heels as he asks what the hell that means and Ken presses his advantage as he rather silkily tells Roger he'd hate to bring the news up with Cynthia, even by accident. Roger, not all that surprisingly, looks like he's got some genuine admiration for Ken baring his heretofore-unseen fangs, and asks what it's going to take -- some kind of partnership? Much as I would have appreciated it, it's probably best that he didn't start by offering Ken the cash in his pocket. And honestly, although I will be missing certain other characters terribly, I'm kind of glad that this plotline probably means that Ken is going to have more to do on the show. Ken rather nastily says he doesn't want to be a partner as he's seen what's involved, but he wants Roger to promise that if they get Dow, Roger will force Ken on it. "And two other things. Pete doesn't go to the meeting. And Pete doesn't go to any meetings." As much as anything else, now that he's been presented with this plan I think Ken probably wants to protect Ed from what he perceives as the sliminess of SCDP, but him singling out Pete in particular suggests a grudge over Pete tattling to Roger about Ken's science fiction (and Roger probably knows this too), not to mention the fact that his one pristine ally, Peggy, abandoned him. Whatever the reason, it's nice to see Ken play the game on his own terms, especially since it's not like Roger of all people is going to protest this particular Pete-less arrangement. Roger leaves Ken to think about how far down the slope he just slipped...
...and then when Don gets on the elevator, Roger is already there. Roger tells Don he got him a meeting Monday morning, but that only chagrins Don because it leaves him so little time to prepare anything and as such signals that it's not going to be a serious meeting. Roger's like, I don't recall saying this was going to be easy. "Don't lose your nerve. I like that guy I saw today. I missed him." If not for the non-speaking extras in the elevator, that fanfic would be well into Chapter Two.
Don arrives home to find Sally watching TV. She tells him that Megan is taking a nap, but when Don enters the bedroom she's wide awake and spoiling for a fight, the latter of which seems to happen these days almost as much as the former. Don apologizes for forgetting to let Megan in on the little change in plans and really it wouldn't have been great if say, she'd left the house on an errand before Sally turned up, but Megan's more interested in what the lack of a call represents than the logistics of it. They go on to establish that their professional commitments will preclude either of them from taking Sally to school on Monday, so she'll have to stay home. Don then shuts down the argument by confessing what happened with Lane, swearing Megan to secrecy. He also makes an interesting comment when, in response to Megan's query of why Lane would do something like that, he exasperatedly replies, "What's the difference. It's all just gossip at a certain point." Among other things, this suggests that he doesn't entirely believe Lane's account of what happened and while it's hard not to make a hacky joke about how trusting Lane's accounting was the whole problem here, it's an interesting statement on how you can't ever know what's in a person's heart coming from someone who can speak to such matters with authority. Megan, completely thrown herself, asks if the firm's okay, but Don assures her it will be fine. He's thoroughly deflated and on top of that has tons of work to do for the Dow meeting, but Megan informs him with some energy that they're going to have dinner with Sally and his acquiescence suggests he's grateful for Megan's intervention in his horrible day. This scene is the first time I can remember the show melding the good and bad aspects of their marriage, which is probably why it felt so realistic.
Lane comes home, drunk and disheveled, only to find Rebecca dressed and eager to take him out to dinner to celebrate the 4A's news, which now must feel like a billion years ago to Lane. Honestly, people thinking you're ecstatic when you're positively miserable has to be one of the hardest things to deal with even sober and Lane is looking like Season 4 Don's British cousin at this point. He confesses that he's had a dreadful day, but she points out it wasn't all bad and adds that she's tired of him "refusing to recognize the successes when they come." She prevails upon him to go out...
...and then in the parking garage, he wonders why they can't just take a cab, but the reason is right in front of them -- she bought him a racing green Jaguar. Lane, stunned, asks how she got it and when she obliviously tells him she wrote a check, he hardly hears her go on that he never spends on himself and she got a very good price by dropping the information about his partnership at SCDP. Lane -- his eyes misting over, probably at the sweet gesture as much as the horror it means for him -- admits that it's lovely and then his stomach can take no more as he runs around a support pole to yak. Lane, if you want to emulate Season 4 Don accurately, I hope you got it all over your shirt. Considering how to town the sound designers went, it seems like a safe bet.
From Sally's comment that Don has a big meeting "tomorrow" it's now Sunday and Megan and Sally are dressed to go out, while Don is spread out on the couch with Dow Chemical materials. A quick check assures her that he does not, in fact, want to come and although she recognizes it's not the time to get into it, a look that's rather Betty-like in its balefulness suggests that all is not great. And Don, when she does take out her frustrations it'd be just as well not to have any food within reach.
Rebecca is trying to get Lane to take the car for a spin, as I'd imagine they didn't make it to dinner Friday night, but he tells her he's got work to do although he does assure her that he loves the car and her and adds that there will be plenty of time. I hope he wasn't saying that cynically; she's going to have enough to deal with as it is. Rebecca lets us know that he got sick from drinking again the day before and as such wonders why he's still at it, but he tells her its cognac and claims it settles the stomach. It's a ridiculous thing to say, but it's a lot harder to have a Lost Weekend when you're married.
Megan and Sally have met up with Jaguar Juliet, who to her credit doesn't seem in the least put out about Sally's presence, although she does doubt that the waiter will serve Sally coffee. They're trying to figure out a movie to see, but Sally's more interested in participating in actual girl talk and she even pipes up that she has a boyfriend, although she's not sure if he likes her "that way." Juliet thinks that means he's not a boyfriend and just because Sally's hanging with the adults, Juliet, that doesn't mean you have to be completely sugar-free with her, as Megan demonstrates by taking her hand and telling that a boyfriend is someone who knows you and makes you feel special. "And holding hands is plenty." Heh. At that moment, the waiter brings Sally the requested coffee and isn't that a lovely, subtle indication of how she's becoming a young woman. I really am not sanguine that any further evidence is needed.
Lane lies awake in bed, regarding his sleeping wife. thing you know, he's dressed and in the parking garage and he puts a hose into the exhaust pipe of the car he can't afford, padding it with a cloth to ensure the gas will flow freely, runs the other end of the hose into the window... well, I don't have to give you the blow-by-blow, he's attempting suicide and rather diligently too. As a final goodbye to this world, he snaps the frames of his infernal glasses. Of course, as I said in the recaplet, killing himself in a Jaguar is definitely riding out of this life on a tidal wave of irony, but since this would also unnecessarily make an uncomprehending Rebecca one step beyond even the catastrophically distraught she's going to be, I'm glad the car gets the last laugh by refusing to start. "Jaguar: It'll make you want to kill yourself, but you'll have to do it somewhere else." This goes on for some time and then Lane hilariously is using one of the lenses of his glasses as he tries to figure out what's wrong with the engine...
...but let's check in with Sally and her boyfriend (?), Glen. On the phone, Sally tells him about escaping the ski trip before "casually" asking him if he'd like to visit her the day. Glen tells her he'd have to sneak off campus and then it'd be a twenty minute bike ride to the station and two hours on the train. Sally, however, points out that they never see each other and that's all Glen needs to hear before he gives in and goes to get a pen to write down her address. Sally, if he's going to go to that much trouble, he at least likes you some way.
Lane, his glasses taped back together, has arrived at his SCDP office and types a letter. And since we all know what he's doing, I have to say it's a nice avoidance of cliché that Lane didn't decide it was Providence intervening as a sign that he has so much to live for. Although if it had been a Mercedes that stalled, it might have been harder to ignore.
Megan bids Sally goodbye, warning her that she's going to feel the TV as soon as she comes back. Sally's like hey, your business and as soon as Megan's gone she runs off to get ready...
...while Don and Roger are nervously waiting for Ed Baxter to see them. Roger asks if Don's going to tell him what he's going to talk about "or is my look of surprise part of the sales pitch?" Well, since you're into giving him bright ideas and all. Don tells Roger he doesn't want the pitch to sound rehearsed and I'm pretty sure it's possible for it to sound spontaneous by rehearsing it and vice versa, but as long as he's got a plan, I guess. Plus, I know he enjoys making Roger squirm. Roger tells Don to keep his cool, "but if he baits you, I want you to punch him in the balls." Realizing Roger just passed up an opportunity to give him some hippie-dippy wisdom, Don asks what happened to his enlightenment, and Roger shrugs: "It wore off." Wow, I'm aware acid can be very strong, but that's the longest I've ever seen it take for someone to come down.
Sally, looking nowhere near as Codfish Ball made-up, but still wearing the forbidden go-go boots, checks her look in the mirror before letting Glen in. They awkwardly beam at each other before Glen tells Sally she doesn't look that different, a sentiment Sally can't return. And no kidding, that's quite the exodus of baby fat since she last saw Matt Weiner's son. Sally asks Glen what he thinks of the apartment, but Glen tells her that one of his classmates has a place better than hers. "It has a second floor." What, the sunken living room doesn't qualify? Sally asks Glen what he wants to do and I don't know if she's testing whether he likes her like that, but Glen is oblivious to any such games and points out that the Museum of Natural History is right nearby. Sally tells him they don't go across the park, as there are "bums" (I remember that word still being used for "homeless" when I was a kid) on the other side, but Glen says he has money for a cab, so they head out. Sally, if he gets fresh with you, stick him with a spike from a Stegosaurus.
Cut to the museum, where Sally is staring at some stuffed bison and wondering how they got all the animals. Glen: "Teddy Roosevelt killed them." It's true, you know! No wonder he carried a big stick. Glen complains that there's a kid at school who picks fights with him who's twice his size and I'm sorry for your misfortune Glen, but what kind of mutant is he? Some further talk of bullying prompts Sally to tell Glen that Henry got picked on as a kid, which in turn leads to her admitting that she keeps wishing Henry would leave Betty even though she knows that's awful. She then tells Glen that she could get in trouble too, but she really wanted to see him and adds that her stomach hurts, which yup, I get it... NO NEED for anything further on that front! Glen then confesses that to get out of being teased, he might have told the lax players he was coming to the city to dance the Posturepedic polka with Sally, but Sally's not offended -- more interested that she might have read Glen wrong. However, she goes on to tell him that while he can say what he wants, she's not sure she likes him that way and he admits that he thinks of her like a little sister, "except smart." Hee. At this point, Sally absolutely has to visit the ladies', so Glen tells her to meet him in Africa. No need to hurry boy, she's not waiting there for you...
...because when she gets into a stall, her white underwear has a red stain and I thought the time we saw her masturbate was probably going to be enough for me?
After an hour and forty-five minutes of waiting, Don and Roger get called in and Roger remarks, "Better than I thought." Heh. After handshakes between the five men, one of the two other Dow higher-ups says that he thought they were going to bring his son-in-law and Ed replies, "Ken knows better." Nice. Ed asks what's so urgent and Roger corrects him that he said "imminent," but this little back-and-forth isn't why Don's there. He tells Ed that he's been reviewing Dow's materials and he feels they're in desperate need of change and by the way, he doesn't want to hear any more about the letter. Roger steps into the fray to vent about Lucky Strike, but Don steers the conversation back to Dow's agency, saying they're just running the same work over and over, which means Dow is paying premium prices for them to work on other things. The same Dow underling points out that they have fifty percent market share across the board, but Don argues that that's because they have a great and diverse product line. "And you keep making more, because even though success is a reality, its effects are temporary." He goes on that their former client London Fog one year sold eighty-one percent of the raincoats in the US, but they didn't stop working on their Creative, "because eighty-one percent isn't enough." It's a good line, but I hope if they do sell eighty-one percent for Dow one of these yahoos doesn't throw it back in Don's face. The heretofore-silent underling asks about napalm and Don gives a patriotic speech about how it's there when America needs it and if Dow weren't still trying to play hard to get I'm pretty sure the guy would have stood up and saluted on the spot. Ed, however, is unwilling to succumb just yet and tells Don that regardless, they're happy with their agency. Don doesn't buy it though, nor does he stop for breath as he retorts that they may think they're happy because they're successful for now, but he's not going to settle for fifty percent of anything. "I want a hundred percent! You're happy with your agency? You're not happy with anything! You don't want most of it, you want all of it and I won't stop until you get all of it!" He gets to his feet, controlling the meeting up to the end and Ed thanks him for stopping by, any smarmy condescension beaten out of him by that speech. It certainly wasn't anywhere near subtle enough to deserve the hypnotic music of pitches past, but I'm glad Don's got his head back in the game all the same. So is Roger, I think, despite this little comment: "I'll buy you a drink if you'll wipe the blood off your mouth." Hee.
Megan arrives home to find Glen's duffel bag, but no Sally...
...who's arrived home and literally runs into the bathroom past a bewildered Betty. Henry appears and tells Betty she just pulled up in a cab with a twenty-five-dollar fare, but Betty seems surprisingly even about it, saying she'll handle it and knocking for Sally to let her in. After Henry disappears (rough work for Christopher Stanley this week), Betty enters and Sally cuts off any reproach by telling her what happened. Betty assures her they'll take care of it, but she's surprised when Sally plows into her for a hug, like for a moment it's like Betty's Frankenstein learning how people behave, but she settles into it and reassures Sally as her face becomes a mix of genuine affection and "SUCK IT, Megan."
On her way to lunch, Scarlett comes in to ask Joan if she can leave the books with her, as Lane's door is locked and she doesn't want them out in the open. Joan tells her sure, no problem -- it's not like this is going to lead to a horrifyingly scarring series of events!
Megan asks "Dawn" to have Don call her as soon as he gets her message and then in response to the doorbell, Megan opens up to find Glen. When he asks if Sally's there, Megan's voice gets sharp indeed as she replies, that no, she is NOT and who might he be? Glen, however, has had quite a time of it and he bellow-babbles that he looked for her but she's gone and he just needs his bag, okay? Megan brings him inside and Glen goes on that he would have left his bag, but he's got a book on Nat Turner in there and his paper's due tomorrow and thank God that the phone rings and I'm not talking about for Megan's sake, although she's relieved when Betty tells her she's got Sally. After breaking the news about Sally's newfound womanhood, Betty tries to lord it over Megan, saying she thinks Sally "just needed her mother," but on top of Megan's relief we know she's got Betty's number, so she doesn't play at all, although she does give a hilarious processing face at the whole thing once she hangs up the phone. Glen then grabs his bag to go, but given the scares of the day thus far Megan tells him she wants to escort him. However, the train doesn't leave until that evening, so Megan sighs and tells him he can wait there and work on his paper and then she'll take him later. Glen doesn't put up a fuss and accepts Megan's offer of something to eat and Megan just don't let him stare at your hair for too long and you'll be fine.
All right, this couldn't be postponed forever, but it does seem rather cruel that Joan, of all people, had to make the initial discovery especially given their last interaction... not that she could have had any idea what he was going through. One sad point I kind of wish I'd overlooked is that if he'd known it was going to come to this, he probably would have staunchly defended Joan's honor last episode; between him and Don, I think the matter would have dropped or at least all the facts would have come to light. Anyway Joan, thinking to put the books on Lane's desk for him, unlocks his door, but when she tries to open it, it's impeded by something and she also notices a smell that looks, from her reaction, reminiscent of the food in her less-than-functional refrigerator. Looking down, she sees a table lying on its side and -- her heart probably knowing what this means before her mind caches up -- she rushes into the neighboring office (Harry's now), wherein she already is barely holding it together as she tells him, Ken and Pete that she thinks something is terribly wrong in Lane's office. Pete pops up on the couch to look through the upper window and his sharp intake of breath when he looks to his right and his hand involuntarily covering his mouth are all we need to know that the deed is done. Harry and Ken check it out for themselves and then Ken wordlessly consoles Joan as she starts to sob in earnest. At a loss, Harry can only come up with "Jesus," which seems about right...
...and while they figure that situation out, let's check in with Sally, who's lying on Betty's bed when her mother brings her a hot-water bottle and tells her not to be embarrassed, "but if you ever get in trouble like that, just ask another woman. They'll understand." The advice is practical, but the prospect of telling a stranger about her perceived shame is not something Sally's ready to consider just yet. Betty gets into bed with her and tells her she knows it's a lot of responsibility, but it's part of being a woman and while having your period is unpleasant, it means everything's working and is ready for a baby, "when you want one. Maybe you'll have a beautiful girl and you can tell her all this." I don't know why, but I kind of thought Betty would be more evangelical about the wonders of menstruation, but she's got her eyes on the prize here as having said something well-designed to make Sally feel better, she puts an arm around her and gives us a small but triumphant smile. Lady, do you ever make it tough.
Roger and Don stumble into the office, but both their good mood and their lubrication immediately vanish when they see the place is empty except for the three other living partners sitting around a table in one of the communal areas, a bottle in front of them. Pete suggests they sit down, but when Don asks what happened, Bertram tells him and that sends Joan into wracking sobs again. Don, the only one who can understand this, sinks down as Pete goes on that Bertram sent everyone home, telling them there was a building emergency and I commend the quick action but wouldn't the SCDP people have wondered why they were the only ones getting out of there? Oh, look at me... like I'd question a holiday were I in their position. Roger asks what happened, but of course there's no answer forthcoming, so he offers to take Joan home. She, however, says she wants to wait with Pete adding that the coroner is coming to cut Lane down, to which Don looks up wild-eyed and says they can't leave him like that. Even beyond his secret knowledge of the circumstances that led to Lane's action, it's not surprising Don would have this reaction, given his close relationship with death; the real Don Draper and his own father are two people I can think of off the top of my head he's seen die right in front of him, not to mention that -- as I said in the recaplet -- he also indirectly drove his own brother to hang himself. As Don pushes his full weight against the door (it's not the time for jokes, but I couldn't help picture the PA on the other side), Pete urgently tells him that they were instructed not to disturb the body as it's a crime scene, but Don emotionally repeats that they can't leave him like that and gets the door far enough open that the three of them can enter. Roger removes the obstructing table and once the door swings shut again, they see Lane hanging there and the mottled, purple skin of his neck is not a sight for the faint of heart. (If you didn't read the linked article above, Jared Harris revealed that he was indeed hanging there, and what's more, Matt Weiner didn't allow the other players in the scene to see him in his makeup before they entered, which I guess means they did no camera rehearsals with the real actors.)
They all stand around uncertainly for a bit until Don removes his coat and asks Pete to find something with which to cut Lane down and Pete gets up with a pair of scissors as Don and Roger brace the corpse and it's here you can really see for the first time the purple lips and ashen face and even though this is a trick of makeup it makes you appreciative of how funeral cosmeticians earn their pay. With Lane safely on the couch, Pete quite reasonably suggests they withdraw, but Roger -- who looks as affected as anyone -- notices an envelope on the floor containing, presumably, the letter we saw Lane typing. He retrieves it and then puts a hand on Don's shoulder and whispers that they should go. When they get outside, Joan and Bertram are waiting expectantly and Roger sees that the envelope is addressed to the partners. Pete tells him to open it and he complies: "It's a resignation letter. It's boilerplate." Don winces, but hey, he's the one that told him to make an elegant exit. As everyone tries in vain to make any sense of it, the camera pushes in on Don, who's burdened with information that both for Lane's sake (to preserve his reputation) and his own (so people don't think he drove Lane to it) he's probably going to have to keep secret. Of course, Megan does know about Lane's misdeeds, which makes me wonder if she's going to be gone by season's end too.
Don wearily arrives home and sees Glen sitting there and while the kid has grown on me, I can't blame Don for his WTF face in reaction. Part of that is that he doesn't recognize him and Megan babbling that she'll explain later doesn't help, but when Glen reminds Don who he is, that pulls Don out of his haze at least a bit. Still, Glen senses the situation has become a bit awkward, so he starts to go even over Megan's protests, but Don, glad of a new purpose, asks where Glen is headed. The answer is Hotchkiss and Don, without fanfare, says he'll take him. Sensing Don's had an even worse day than he did on Friday, Megan rushes over and asks if he's okay, but Don simply tells her he had a bad day and they'll talk about it later. And when she hears about it, I have the feeling that Megan will delay informing Don his daughter has become a young woman for a while. Even Don Draper can be broken. Glen politely thanks Megan and he and Don get out of there...
...but only as far as the elevator, in which Glen wonders why everything you think is going to make you happy "just turns to crap." Don thinks Glen is too young to be talking that way and Matt Weiner's son seems too young to be able to sell this line, but Glen asserts that it's true, so Don slides down the wall to Glen's height and asks him what he would do if he could do anything. As The Lovin' Spoonful's "Butchie's Tune" kicks up, Glen considers that question for a moment...
...and then we cut to the two of them driving... with Don in the passenger's seat, surrendering responsibility for making any decisions at least for an hour or two. Again, a small bit of visceral comfort to end an absolutely brutal episode. The only other season that battered me quite as much was the third, but while that ended with some bright spots, I'm not feeling this one is going to relent at all. But whatever happens, I'll see you week.
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 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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