Mad Men Season 7, Episode 1, “Time Zones”

Season 6 ended with Don and Megan’s marriage seemingly on the rocks: Don had completely lost interest in her, and his indifference had driven Megan to the point where she appeared ready to give up as well, especially once he reneged on his promise to move to Los Angeles with her. Thus it is somewhat surprising that Don and Megan begin season 7 in the midst of a seemingly happy routine: Megan lives in Los Angeles, pursuing her acting career, while Don makes time to visit from New York. Had Don and Megan somehow healed the distance between them and recommitted to each other in the time between seasons? Are they really in a happier and healthier place?

The answer seems to be both yes and no: Don has been able to do a better job of being interested in Megan (or at least feigning interest) because he has put some distance between them. He hasn’t told her the truth about what’s happened with SC&P; she has no idea that he’s been forced out of the day-to-day activity of the company, and he lies to her about needing to go work during his visits to California, and presumably, about his needing to stay in New York. Don has turned Megan into his ideal version of a wife, someone he can place in a bottle that can be corked and uncorked at his discretion: a week here, a weekend there. Effectively, he treats his wife like a mistress, someone he can’t tire of because he only sees her every few weeks, and with whom he no longer shares who he really is. He’s now playing Don Draper for her, just like he does with all of the other people in his life. He’s even set her up in a nice house in the Hollywood Hills (although he’s not sure whether it faces Los Angeles or the valley), just like a kept woman.

Accordingly, just like his romantic affairs during his marriage to Betty, he opens up to another potential mistress – a woman he meets on the plane back to New York – as though she were his wife. It’s the same old pattern for Don, but now with Megan instead of Betty. Perhaps Don has grown somewhat, however, as he now seems to have some perspective, and to feel some remorse. As he describes his marriage to the woman on the plane with whom he flirts, he laments over how he really thought he could stay invested in his marriage the second time around. And in the end, he turns down the potential mistress’s invitation for sex (much to her dissatisfaction).

If Don has only been spending a small amount of time with Megan in Los Angeles, then what has he been up to in New York? Exploring the bottoms of empty scotch bottles? Telling his life story to other casual sex partners? As it turns out, he’s been playing Cyrano de Bergerac with Freddie Rumsen. The season opens with a classic Don Draper pitch for Accutron watches, except it’s coming out of Freddie’s mouth as he tries to sell it to Peggy at SC&P. Freed from the pressures of dealing with his coworkers, Don seems to have rediscovered his passion for advertising, and is regularly using Freddie as means of scratching that creative itch he used to feel. It’s an encouraging sign, given that Don’s creativity was always one of his more positive traits, but it stems from a disquieting place: even though the SC&P paychecks keep coming, he’s still on the outs at his former company. As Freddie says, the longer he’s away, the more he’ll seem like damaged goods. Thus while things appear to be better for Don than they were at the end of last season, all is not right (somewhat like the broken, perpetually open sliding door to the balcony in his apartment).

Meanwhile, Peggy starts this season in a rather miserable place, as evidenced by her collapsing in sobs on the floor of her apartment at the end of the premiere. Seeing Ted during his occasional trips to the New York office serves as a persistent reminder of their failed love affair, and she’s also exhausted by the hassle of being landlord in a neighborhood she hates. Most significant, however, is that she is chafing under the creative leadership of Lou Avery, the man the SC&P partners hired to replace Don. Peggy spends much of the episode trying unsuccessfully to find a rapport with him; she’s inspired by Don/Freddie’s Accutron pitch, but Lou rejects it twice, first when she pitches her altered (inferior) version, and then again when she pitches it using Don/Freddie’s original phrasing. Rather than opening Lou’s eyes to her brilliance (her plan), her aggressiveness turns him off.

Peggy spent the first half of last season on a clear trajectory: she was on her way to becoming the female Don Draper. That trajectory was derailed by the merging of CGC with SCDP, but appeared to be back on track again in the finale, after Don is forced out (Peggy concluded season 6 in Don’s office, wearing pants, and striking a classic Don Draper pose while sitting in Don’s chair). Lou appears to be another setback for her. Unlike with her previous two bosses, Lou treats her like just another copywriter. It’s a new and extremely frustrating sensation for Peggy, who is used to having a privileged rapport with her superiors: Don treated her like a protégé, while Ted had such a high respect for her creativity he ended up falling in love with her (even though he proved incapable of committing to those feelings). True, Don had tried to block her in the past, and treated her reprehensibly at times (including nearly all of last season), but she could chalk that up to Don being an awful human being, rather than it having anything to do with the quality of her creativity. Thus far, Lou seems to be a normal, decent person (one who spends his weekends chopping wood), who just happens not to take a shine to Peggy, and who does not seem to value her as a special asset. Moreover, she also does not respect Lou the way she did both Don and Ted at various points in their past. Peggy sought Don and Ted’s approval and listened to their criticism when it was legitimate. She does not hold Lou in such high esteem, especially considering that she sees herself as operating on Don and Ted’s level. Thus she feels creatively stifled by her position at SC&P. Hopefully her personal and professional life will improve over the course of this final season (I’m also holding out hope for some form of reconciliation with Don).

I was also glad to see the season premiere picking up the only major plot line it dropped at the end of last season: Joan’s attempt to become an accounts woman. Swamped by all of the accounts he has to manage, Ken assigns Joan to deal with Butler Footwear’s new head of marketing. It’s a big step for Joan to be handed another account aside from Avon, although it would be sweeter if it stemmed solely from Ken’s confidence in her skills, rather than equal parts Ken’s confidence in her, Ken’s needing to play politics, and Ken being overwhelmed by all of the other work he has to do now that Pete and Bob Benson are in different states and Roger and Jay Cutler have turned into useless figureheads.

And of course, Joan is impressive and resourceful in her handling of the account. Butler’s new head of marketing wants to cut costs by firing SC&P and handling their advertising in-house, so Joan meets with a business professor at a university to help her think of counterarguments to present to Butler in SC&P’s favor. This leads to a wonderful moment: When Joan asks how much it would cost to get the professor’s analysis in writing, the professor responds by suggesting a quid pro quo arrangement. Joan immediately turns cold and defensive; accustomed to vice-addled corporate executives, she clearly thinks he’s asking her for sexual favors. When he clarifies that he only wants access to data on SC&P’s clients for a research project, Joan is both relieved and a little embarrassed at her (over)reaction, but then, in an empowering moment, demonstrates her command of the information the professor seeks. I look forward to more moments like these, where Joan’s expertise is validated by her peers.

Other thoughts:

- There isn’t much of Pete in the premiere, although what we do see of him appears to continue the trend last season, where Pete appeared to be transforming into a less successful version of Don. Just like Don, Pete has fled his former life to find (temporary?) happiness in a new one, and has seemed to change somewhat in his new surroundings. When he meets with Don, he’s dressed like he’s headed to a country club, and he ignores Don’s signal for a handshake, instead giving him a hug. Pete has even found his own version of Betty in his realtor, Bonnie Whiteside, who is the spitting image of the former Mrs. Draper.

- Roger has descended further into a drug-induced bacchanal. It’s fitting that we are introduced to him this season waking up naked on the floor of his bedroom, in the afterglow of an apparent orgy, since the last time we saw him he was standing naked in front of his apartment window, looking out onto the city as if he were inviting the new sensations and experiences LSD offered. It appears as though that invitation has been accepted.

- It’s interesting to note that Megan is still self-conscious about her financial status; her biggest objection to the enormous television that Don installs in her house is not its size, nor the intrusion of such a Don-centric object into her personal space, but that its luxury will alienate her from her poor actor friends. Also interesting: Don calls it an “expensive gift,” but it is really for himself, not Megan. It’s the equivalent of Don keeping a toothbrush or a spare shirt at his mistress’s apartment.

- Megan is a stylistic vision when she arrives to pick Don up from LAX, with her amazing outfit, impeccable hair, and makeup each augmented by slow motion and groovy music.

- Megan’s agent is Alan Silver. Is he just Jewish, or is he also gay? Either way, I thoroughly enjoyed Don’s discomfort with him. I also enjoyed the rotary phone on the dinner table at the restaurant. Somehow, show business lunches were even more obnoxious pre-cell phones.

- Holy shit, Megan’s house in the hills has an amazing view (although don’t ask Don what it’s a view of).

- “She knows I’m a terrible husband…. She doesn’t know that much, but she knows.” At least Don knows.

- Success has spoiled Ken Cosgrove. He was happier when he didn’t let the job consume his life (and when he had stereoscopic vision). The biggest laugh of the episode is his wildly errant attempt to toss Joan her misplaced earring.

- The episode lobs two jokes about Ted not being tan despite moving to Los Angeles (which is perhaps indicative that he is throwing himself into his work to avoid thinking about Peggy). After the second joke, we catch our first glimpse of Pete, who has indeed become tan. This episode derived many good chuckles regarding Pete’s life in Los Angeles, but my favorite was his take on life here: “The city is flat and ugly, and the air is brown. But I love the vibrations.”

- Don and Pete meet at a 60s mockup of a Los Angeles restaurant fixture, Canters Deli. The eatery has a long and storied history, but personally, I’ve never been terribly impressed with anything I’ve eaten there (if you want to eat at a Jewish deli in Los Angeles, try Greenblatt’s Deli on Sunset). Maybe Canters was better 50 years ago.