Mad Men – “Marriage of Figaro”

“Marriage of Figaro”

Season One, Episode Three

One of the strengths of Mad Men is its ability to capture lightning in a bottle, taking moments or elements of the 1960s and building off of them. In the pilot, this felt clunky and forced, but as time has moved on things have changed: these small elements have become an important but not integral element of the story. The plot doesn’t rely on these little moments, but rather uses them to help explain and expand upon both story and characterization.

“Marriage of Figaro” is not yet in the shape of a normal episode of the series, still needing to clearly point out the show’s central divide: in a way that few episodes mimic, the action is split directly in half as we first follow Don’s life in the city before transitioning into his daughter’s birthday party in the suburbs. The only thing connecting these two parts, on the surface, is Don Draper, but little bits of information and intrigue follow (Whether it’s romantic entanglements or the impact of the Volkswagen ad that has everyone talking).

The result is that the episode is indeed a Don story, never quite fully diving into the series’ other various narratives. There are some pieces laid down here, though, that will become very important for the future; plus, when I say it’s a Don story, that’s not a bad thing in the least.

If it wasn’t for the amazing season finale, Jon Hamm would have had a hell of a time picking an episode to submit for the Emmy Awards. Don Draper is just such a complex character that every episode sees him dealing with his double life, and Hamm manages to jump from tortured to charming in two seconds flat. Whether with the help of a dog or a quick response to a problem, Draper as a character has learned how to deal with his struggles in his own way, and we get a real glimpse into that here.

That we still feel for Draper after he attempts to pursue Rachel Menken and abandons his daughter’s birthday party without a cake should be telling, as Hamm absolutely nails the struggles that face him. We don’t have to like Draper at this point, but we do have to be willing to understand the position he’s in and be at least open to the fact that we clearly don’t have the whole story. The scene where a man approaches Draper and has a complete conversation referring to him as “Dick Whitman” is a sure sign that we need to be willing to give the show more time before we judge our hero too harshly.

His time with Rachel takes up a lot of the episode, and it doesn’t really tell us much; we see as his charm starts to wear her down, and we see her logical reaction to the truth. More interesting in the first half is the small little moments at Sterling Cooper caused by the ripple effect of Pete’s return and the Volkswagen ad that shocked America. Pete’s return, while providing humour with the “Chinamen” in his office, also causes Peggy’s heart to flutter. She’s heavily romanticized her late night visit from the newlywed, and between that and her desire to read Lady Chatterly’s Lover it’s clear that her trajectory isn’t quite what she expected when she took this job.

The Volkswagen ad, and the banned book Peggy is given, are both little bits of theming that work wonders for the show compared to some of the clunky smoking in the pilots. The Volkswagen ad, touting its “Lemon” status as if it was a badge of pride and not shame, is a sign of changing times in industry and attitudes, and is a great point of entry for Helen Bishop. That the divorcee, introduced last week in abstentia in a rather judgmental tone, is driving one is indicative of the tide of change in both marital life and the job. The show’s two sides are never wholly unconnected, and this is a good example of their shared ideas being plainly stated.

The home sections are quite eye-opening, especially in terms of comparing Don’s own struggles with Helen’s. Draper might not think he’s like the Volkswagen either, but they both do feel out of place in their own worlds but for different reasons: Draper’s is under the hood, if you will, while Helen wears hers on her sleeve like the Volkswagen ad in question. They each have their point of escape, but his is in secret while she walks (to “nowhere”) to find space and isolation in a world that doesn’t accept her beyond a housewarming pie.

It’s a warning shot for Draper, whose secrets are luckily hidden from the view of his nosy neighbours; his secrets remain hidden from view, able to isolate his indiscretion from his world. His trip to the tracks to drink away his sorrows is a rare moment of discretion, as driven batty by his memories of his rooftop altercation with Rachel he can’t return to that part of his lie himself. I don’t buy that he ever intended on actually killing himself, that seems too harsh a tone, but it was rather an issue of needing to get away.

But then, of course, whether with a dog or a Sara Lee cake in a freezer, the day can be saved. Or, at least, salvaged.

Cultural Observations

• The episode’s title comes from a Mozart piece of the same name, which is playing while Don goes through with the video camera.
• Secor Laxatives is really fun to say, and the show continues to get good mileage out of it in later storylines (So yes, laxatives was more than a one-off joke).
• We’re now only nine days away from the series’ Season One DVD release, so for those watching but getting impatient the time’s about to arrive.