‘Mad Men’: ‘The Arrangements’

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Well, well, well. Sally Draper. Someone is shaping up to have a mind of her own.

How long would our little ballerina stay quiet, mixing Tom Collins’ for Mommy and Daddy while acting out in minor but telling ways? She’s broken Daddy’s valise, stolen money, slurped liquor on the sly, tried cigarettes and explored the potential “fun” of dry-cleaning bags. (If you tie one on your head and breathe in, you get such a light funny feeling!) But never has she stood up for what she thinks is right.

Our weekly installment of “Mad Men” hinged on parenting this week – our biological ones, our surrogates, the harmful pecking and loving care they can impart. It’s a fathomless well; not for nothing did Douglas Copeland title his 2002 book, “All Families Are Psychotic.” All this fodder for psychoanalysis should give Sally plenty of fuel for when she inevitably drops out and tunes in come 1968, a mere five years from the time frame of Season 3.

I recently interviewed Matthew Weiner for an upcoming feature and he hinted that Sally would have a juicy story this season. “The Arrangements,” another densely packed and thematically tight episode, dangles that carrot the most so far. Some viewers fretted that Gene Hofstadt moving in could mean trouble for Sally – we all remember Gene’s creepy grope on Betty – but if anything, Grandpa Gene has proven a powerful lifeline for our tutu-loving girl. Over health-conscious bites of salted ice-cream, Gramps tells her that she’s really capable of something. “Don’t let your mother tell you otherwise,” he adds. You can practically see Sally’s sense of self-worth expand.

In a few other moments, we see Gene lavishing attention on Sally, whether it’s letting her take the wheel (nice 10-12 form, Sally) or insisting that they get peaches at the store, even if they do give little Bobby a rash. Apparently he once kept Betty in the same protective privileged bubble, one where she still likes to hide. When Gene wants to discuss funeral arrangements he’s made in advance for himself, Betty doesn’t settle in for a sad but practical conversation; she’s angry that he persists in talking about something that upsets her. “I’m your little girl,” she says, before storming off.

It’s Betty’s inability to maturely deal with uncomfortable realities that keeps her confined and defined by domesticity. Tucked away in her Colonial-style domicile, Betty can lord over her children and make snide judgments about the hot divorcees on the block. (Speaking of which, will the Bishops show up this season? Are we over Glen? And where is Francine?) But rarely is she forced to face the kind of complexities the death conversation would’ve required.

Gene hasn’t resided in the Draper household long when he passes out and dies while standing in line at the A&P. Talk about clean-up in Aisle 3! All joking aside, this felt like a bit of fast plotting to me – he mentions death in the first 10 minutes or so and is expired by the end -- but I suppose I shouldn’t complain: The Draper household is probably best left in its pure nuclear configuration, and it was nice to see the show break from its stately pace.Gene’s death hits Sally hard. Hearing her parents giggle at a break-the-tension heaven joke sets her off on a tirade. In her black leotard, tutu and tights, she yells that he’s dead and never coming back. It was a little awkward to watch – perhaps director Michael Uppendahl should’ve encouraged a little more range into Kiernan Shipka’s performance – but it was impossible not to root for her. Finally, she pushes back. Finally, she’s letting Mom have it. But of course, she gets sent to watch TV, where “Mad Men” gives us the first hints of the upcoming monster that is the Vietnam War. Little Sally leaks out a few more tears as TV blasts out the news of Buddhist Monk Thich Quang Doc lighting himself on fire in protest of South Vietnam policies. Ah, TV ... the great escape.

In lighter news, Peggy looks for a roommate. Our repressed heroine pins a notecard to the Sterling Cooper break-room bulletin board written in the stiffest language outside a translated instructional on jai alai (more on that soon). It leaves her prey to office pranksters like Paul, who talks Lois into crank-calling Peggy. It is Joan, Peggy’s Manhattan fabulous mother figure, who steps in and rescues Peggy, urging her to write a sassy, spirited ad. Peggy’s new call for roomies attracts a nice Swedish girl who says she doesn’t get along with women like she does men. Oh, and she hates sailors. We don’t know much about Karen Ericson yet but something tells me this particular Swede and our favorite Norwegian (Peggy) may clash over more than Lingonberry pancakes.

Peggy’s own mother doesn’t encourage her Manhattan fantasies like Joan. When she hears that her baby’s leaving Brooklyn, she says Peggy will most certainly get raped but that’s not her most scathing line. “Why should I believe anything you say?” she hisses at the end of the conversation. It’s the first time Peggy winces – and it’s the first time anything about her love child with Pete has been mentioned this season, albeit indirectly.

Don also has his moments of competing fatherhood with Gene (who tries to give little Bobby a dead soldier’s helmet, until Don plucks it off) and offering up Dad-like advice for clients too headstrong to listen. Horace Jr. has a dream and that involves the laughable feat of getting a program based around jai alai star Patchy to be on all three networks. “Mad Men” has certainly had fun with “hindsight is 20/20” moments before but this time, everyone’s sight is 20/20 except Horace Jr., a.k.a. the unfortunately nicknamed “Ho Ho.” Everybody but him knows that jai alai will never eclipse baseball. When Don tries to gently but firmly tell him so, Junior more or less admits that he’s doing it to impress the pops – he dreams of giving his dad a team on his 75th birthday. His stern-lipped father, a close associate of Bertram Cooper’s, is fully aware of his son’s stupid plan and merely waves the wolves of Sterling Cooper toward the bloody burning pile of money.

Last but not least, Sal arouses suspicion with his Ann-Margret imitation. Though his wife’s expression was pretty priceless, this scene felt a little too easy – closeted gay guy relishes prancing around like a toothsome starlet; wife has “ZOMG, my husband is gay” realization. Really? Surely the thudding reality of Sal’s gayness has dawned on her before, no? It’s also worth questioning whether any seduction could do anything but fail when said seductress is wearing frilly Kelly green. I’m just sayin’.

-- Margaret Wappler