Mad Men – “Flight 1”

“Flight 1”

August 3rd, 2008

If last week was about the dueling crises of Betty and Don Draper, the sophomore episode of Mad Men’s second season is all about how the show’s other two primary characters are dealing with crises of their own own. Pete and Peggy’s fates are no doubt intertwined in this series, from the premiere’s tryst to the finale’s birth, and while they share only a brief conversation and one long look during one of Pete’s lower moments, their connection is apparent throughout.

Mad Men is all about reactions: to the times, to the people, to tragedy, to triumph, and everything else in between. We don’t see Flight 1 crash into Jamaica Bay, but we see the reactions of the people at Sterling Cooper and through the impact it has on Pete’s family. Much like the second season from a conceptual level, the show isn’t about showing us every event, but rather slowly pulling back the curtain on the ways that those events change these characters. It’s a show where a plane crash is never just a plane crash not because of some sort of electromagnetic field, but rather due to the show’s ability to emphasize the widespread impact of events both big and small on the characters it knows so well.

American Airlines Flight 1, in case you haven’t quite caught onto Mad Men’s insane attention to detail, did actually crash into Jamaica Bay on March 1st, 1962. Taking a real life tragedy and spinning it into a story point for these characters, like the reflection of Sterling Cooper that the show often operates as, never feels disingenuine when it is allowed to unfurl with such a natural flow to it. These characters are designed, as all good characters should be, as reactionary individuals who are reflective of trends while maintaining something unique about their perspectives.

Initially, the only reaction is everyone crowding around the radio and listening in to the latest: Hildi, Pete’s secretary, and Salvatore seem the most emotionally affected, while the reaction of Fred Rumsen and Paul Kinsey is to crack jokes about the passengers. These are our simple reactions: these characters are not simple, but they are more emotionally level on either end of the spectrum compared to everyone else (Although, as I’ll discuss later, Kinsey is an interesting case). But the real story of Mad Men is how the news impacts everyone else, particularly those who have learned or not learned how to react to such situations.

Don’s reaction, of course, is measured and exact: he immediately tells everyone to pull their work for Mohawk Airlines, knowing that this is a sensitive time to be discussing air travel in an advertising context. This is what Don has done his entire life, quickly compartmentalizing any emotion he may feel in favour of what needs to be done, or what “should” be done. Alan Sepinwall posted an excerpt from Matthew Weiner’s press tour explanation of the episode where he suggested that that word, should, appears a lot in this script, and I don’t doubt it. Don’s got it down pat, though – this is something he’s done many times before.

Which is why Pete goes to Don, someone who clearly does not “like” him in traditional terms, when he has to deal with a more personal tragedy. Pete is drawn to Don as a father figure, no question, but here he just wants guidance. Hours earlier, he was adding his own voice to the train of awful jokes (Showing the least wit with his golfer/plaid line) because he thought it was what he was supposed to do. He seemed to carefully weigh his options, but it’s clear that his father’s tragic death as a passenger on that flight doesn’t have so many test subjects to allow him to formulate his reaction. He goes to Don desperate to know what he should be doing or even feeling, and I have to wonder if he knows just how perfect Don is for this assignment considering his past (He obviously knows of Don’s past life, but the extent of his double-identity isn’t quite as clear).

Pete’s father death is an example of art sadly imitating life, as the actor recently passed away in an Avalanche. But it sends Pete on a journey that is oddly impersonal, to be honest: for someone who had such a rough relationship with his father, Pete doesn’t seem to react with anger or regret so much as a total lack of emotion. It’s what I should have expected from Pete, but so often I think that his childlike pettiness is actually his persona and not just an affection he uses when he needs it. Instead, he really is a bit of a blank slate, so it’s great to see how his journey progresses. And we do relate with him here: I love the scene where he comes out of his office desperate for someone to talk to after Duck’s proposal (and his statement that he hasn’t cried yet). He goes to call his wife, then eventually sees Don at the wrong time as he’s fuming over the ad agency plot of the week.

It’s what was in between that struck me, a simple look between Peggy and Pete that was not sexual so much as an attempt to latch onto anything and anyone who meant something to him. He still has a lot to learn, Pete does, and even in Peggy he sees a lesson (even if this one clearly has other benefits for him). Pete eventually finds his teacher of choice with Duck Phillips, whose motives aren’t entirely clear but nonetheless is enough to draw Pete into the game so to speak. That Pete was able to sell and package his own personal tragedy isn’t surprising, but it does demonstrate that sometimes Don’s “Don’t Tell” policy might actually be the best one, although the end result has yet to be seen.

But to return to Flight 1 for a moment, Peggy’s reaction was perhaps my favourite: carrying a vacuum cleaner that would eventually end up at her mother and sister’s home, she sees the group of people and smiles while walking off to her desk. She doesn’t stop to gawk at the radio, or fraternize with everyone: she is perfectly content to choose to see this tragedy as something that doesn’t affect her. The parallel to the birth of her own child is clear, but so is the fact that the post-birth period that we missed out on during the break held its share of trials and tribulations for young Peggy Olsen.

Through some subtle but clear dialogue, it is apparent that Peggy went into some sort of state custody, likely dealing with her psychological issues surrounding her denial of her parenthood of the child in question. It seems like a bit of stretch to suggest that Peggy was insane, but she was certainly heavily mentally impacted by her surprise birth (And, let’s be honest, could a sane person not know they’re pregnant?). It raises a ton of questions, from how much Don knows about it to what eventually got her on the right path, and I would expect that we might eventually get some flashbacks if only because they continue to play so subtlely to the events therein.

What we learn here, though, is the end result: the child is being raised as her sister’s, and Peggy has little to nothing to do with the little boy. The final image of her holding him as he cries and cried at Mass is almost haunting, how it is clear that she wants nothing to do with the baby and that the baby senses this. The entire season has this sense of being haunted by the past, of people seeing the ghosts of themselves and reacting all over again (perhaps reflected by the ghost that Don’s kids see). For Peggy, she actually seems to be rid of much of its impact: she fraternizes with Paul’s friend Eugene at the opening party, she showed confidence in last week’s meetings, and her life seems to be going perfectly.

But the issue is that it shouldn’t be: she has chosen her path, no question, but it is clear that her family and at least some common arguments would say that her complete void of emotion for the child is somewhat disheartening. She isn’t doing what a mother is supposed to do, in the same way that Pete isn’t perhaps acting in a way that a son should. The thing with Peggy, though, is that we don’t know the history: Pete can claim that his tumultuous relationship with his father drives his lack of “right” emotion, but Peggy’s problem seems like a much deeper condition that we need more information on to properly assess.

Peggy’s all business about her child, in a way, so she fits right in at Sterling Cooper as one man’s tragedy becomes a business’ opportunity. Basic moral of the story is that an airline in crisis is an airline looking for a new approach, and that any ad agency with a right mind is supposed to be chomping at the bit to get their hands on the huge business that a National airline brings in. For Donald Draper, however, life doesn’t work that way: his ideal scenario is earning American Airlines’ respect while providing a great service to a loyal customer in Mohawk Airlines (Which we saw last week). Needless to say, business doesn’t always work that way.

But it’s three against one, and Draper is forced to sack Mohawk and eat all of his words he had used to pull them in while Duck pulls Pete into the campaign to get a pitch (with no guarantee of a pickup) at American. What I didn’t at first realize was that Duck only brought Pete into this scenario in hopes that he would be willing to, as he does, pimp out his own tragedy as a selling point for Sterling Cooper. I was just thinking that Duck was being kind and fatherly, but he is far more cutthroat than Don could ever be with that particular move. If there was any question that we’d be rooting for Don as he fights against the turning tides in the ad agency, that is now removed: Duck has taken a risky gamble and taken advantage of a grief-stricken, naive young man while throwing another customer out the door.

And I think it’s only fair to single out Paul Kinsey, who gets more to do this week. I mentioned above that the newly bearded staff member at Sterling Cooper got a bit more complicated this week and it’s true. Although he’s quick to joke about the plane crash, his party shows a much different side: in particular, his African American girlfriend. Joan’s comment to Sheila is one of her usual underhanded compliments, but it’s almost nice for her: she simply explains that she would never have pegged him for someone so open-minded, forward-looking. It’s a small little thing, but it not only sets off the nice chain reaction (Including the great shot of him taking her handbag and the eventual reveal that she’s 31 years old), but also reminds us that everyone (not just Pete, Peggy, Don and Betty) have similar complexities.

Now, the rest of this is going to be in more bite-sized pieces, so let’s boil it down – it’s getting late.

Cultural Observations

• You’ll notice that Betty doesn’t get to react to Flight 1 – that is something off her radar, a piece of news that as a housewife she’s supposed to just let brush by her. Although we don’t see it, I have to wonder whether she’s reacting as she feels or as she think she should.
• Loved the little moment between Salvatore and who we now know is his wife, played by Everwood’s Sarah Drew (unrecognizable in the 60s styling). They really did seem like best friends as they watched as Ken hit on and felt up his conquest. I am still waiting to see into Sal’s life again, as it’s been awhile, but the fact that they cast his wife has to mean something is in the works.
• I wrote “Carlton got FAT” in my notes, and it’s true: looked like a makeup job, though, considering how they worked it into their discussion. I loved how Betty took it to be that he was gaining weight out of happiness, as opposed to a complete and utter lack of interest in looking nice when it’s only his wife he has to please. That this results in Don and Betty’s fight, as they tiptoe ungracefully around their own marital issues, only further emphasizes how rocky their marriage is right now.
• It’s hard not to be alarmed/charmed by young Sally Draper fixing drinks for her parents and their guests, isn’t it? It’s one of those signs of the times things, although it does kind of remind me of that rather great episode of The Simpsons as well.
• The conversation between Don and the man from Mohawk was so perfect, as it really drove home that Don ended up “fooling” or conning Mohawk without even intending it. Considering that much of his life is about lies and the like, there’s a certain irony in his disappointment at breaking promises when he spitshines everything he touches. It does hurt, though, to have that all in the open, and for his usual pitch about “growing together” literally being thrown back in his face.
• And it may well have led to him being tempted to fall back into old habits, with the waitress desiring a more intimate connection with the quiet man sitting alone. I don’t know what this means for whatever he has on his mind, but it does demonstrate that he remains just as unstable as Pete is in some aspects of his life, if not the ones that people see every single day. There, he does as he should: he plays cards, he does his job, and he maintains a life. Behind the scenes, though, the guy’s still a wreck.