The Best of MAD MEN Season 5: Shot & Costume
Continuing my breakdown of Mad Men‘s fifth season by examining the “Best Shot” and “Best Costume.” Go here to read about my pick for “Best Episode” and “Best Performance.”
Best Shot: The Long Dark Walk, “The Phantom”
“The Phantom” might be the weakest episode of Season 5. We all carry expectations into episodes and we’ve been conditioned to bring impossibly high standards to Mad Men finales. In the last two seasons, Weiner&co. have given us major surprises to tide us over — Season 3 ended with the covert construction of Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce and Season 4 ended with the unexpected proposal. The writers of this show are not strangers to literary structure. They understand the importance of a climax and a denouement. Before Season 3 finished, we witnessed the incorporation of Kennedy’s assassination and Season 4 essentially climaxed with Don’s letter to the NY Times and Lucky Strike’s consolidation. We see the same treatment in Season 5. The story reached a fair apex with SCDP nabbing Jaguar and Lane killing himself in the aftermath. So how does one approach an episode like “The Phantom”? For most characters, it’s a coda. Peggy is pretty happy over at CGC, Joan is secure in her partnership, and Lane is dead. “The Phantom” wraps up Pete’s narrative when Trudy suggests that he get an apartment in the city. Really, the story belongs to Don and Megan.
In a sea of contenders for this category, Don’s walk away from Ms. Calvé wins by a mile.
Plenty of harsh words have been hurled at Megan during Season 5. Their partnership seemed to bend most of the viewership out of shape by the end of Season 4, probably because of the masterful fake-out that was Faye Miller. Megan’s beauty and grace suggest that she is precisely the kind of woman Don Draper would marry. However, Season 5 works hard to show us that she is a new type of woman — one that is able to follow her “dreams,” one that is willing to stand up to Don, one that won’t eat orange sherbet. Megan’s ability to be both perfect for Don and difficult for Don is exactly what makes “The Phantom” (and Season 5) functional. If you’re going to hate Megan Draper, hate her because she is constructed as a mate for Don, not because she’s “annoying.” One hope for Season 6 is that Megan becomes more of an individual and less predicated on the needs of Don’s outline.
Anyway, this shot manages to encapsulate Don and Megan’s entire season into one beautiful image. Don walks out into a long dark soundstage after getting Megan her first legitimate acting job. The previous scene shows us Don watching her test reel, falling in love with her all over again and persuading us to believe that he will be with her forever. Don is in love with a girl on a screen. In that scene, he faces her, smiling. In this scene, he walks away, face blank. He doesn’t look back.
The symbolism of this shot is overt, but its execution is haunting. We track along with Don, reminded that we are supposed to be seeing this world through his eyes. Instead of giving us a fixed point where we can watch this walk unfold, we stay with Don and experience the endless abyss with him. The shot goes on and on and on as he walks through the long darkness. We can’t really see his face and it isn’t too important. What’s happening on the stage isn’t very important, either. What is important is the distance. Not only is Matt Weiner showing us how far apart these two characters are becoming, he’s engaging us in the widening process. By rendering the action of both characters neutral, we are left to experience the increasing gap between them.
We also hear the beginning of Nancy Sinatra’s “You Only Live Twice” as Don begins walking away. Weiner said that he’s been waiting to use this song for a long time because it so perfectly describes this world and these characters. In a story that clutches so tightly to human nature, it’s hard to disagree. The song resonates particularly well within the Draper marriage. They’ve spent the entire season reconciling the worlds of Work and Home — they are trying to make them into two different lives.
“The Phantom” lacks subtlety, which is its greatest flaw in comparison to an uncompromising season. The refusal to acknowledge Lane’s death is a remarkably truthful gesture on the page, but doesn’t communicate well on the screen. Adam’s suggestion that “Something’s rotten, but it isn’t your tooth,” is worth a thousand eye-rolls. Pete’s confession to a wiped-out Beth reads as a lazy writers-room concession. In a way, this shot is just as obvious — ripping your attention away from both characters and encouraging a clear conclusion. But it’s an example of what any good art will do well — communicate an emotion or ideology through creative gesture. We see Don saunter out into space, leaving his wife behind. She’s engulfed in the vibrant colors of advertising, of creativity, of Don’s world, but he moves on. Unsurprisingly, that black void quickly cuts to a deep, smoky bar where a woman from a new age asks if Don is alone. It’s a line that, like the rest of the episode, might be too overt. But Mad Men is all about getting what you wish for and wondering what it means. The Draper household is in great shape by the end of Season 5 — right?
Best Costume: Sally Draper, “At the Codfish Ball”
Janie Bryant’s costume work will surely be recognized as a turning point in expectations for period fidelity in media.Her designs have inspired a very obvious shift in contemporary fashion, men now favoring slim suits and thin ties and tight hair, women embracing the loud, expressionistic colors of the 1960′s.
Of all the magnificent costumes this season, Sally Draper’s new dress takes the cake. Janie Bryant’s marriage of clothing and content has no match in contemporary television. Tasked with the challenge of Sally Draper’s burgeoning adolescence, she delivered a dynamite outfit.
“At the Codfish Ball” is an episode that we basically experience through Sally’s perspective. Her interaction with Roger feels as pleasant as it does because we think that he’s talking to us, giving us the tour of this world. Whether you like fish or not, you cringe when she receives her meal. And when the waiter finally comes to ask if she’s done with her Shirley Temple, you nod along with her. Her false adulthood is a universal experience — everyone knows what that feels like. Ultimately, she rejects it, saying that the city is “dirty.” Sally’s embodiment of the confusing netherworld between childhood and adulthood is remarkable. She’s postured as a fractured soul, intelligent but damaged by the immaturity of her parents. The enjoyment we’ve previously received from her character comes from seeing her try to navigate the adult world with a childish conscience. But, in Season 5, her arc is one that places her among the adults.
When the series is finished, I wonder if we won’t look at Sally and see the greatest change of all. Of course, we are watching Kiernan Shipka pass into adolescence as well. Sally’s ultimate destination is too hard to tell. Imagining her as a flower child or a protester seems too simple for Mad Men‘s agenda. Where do you think Sally ends up?