'Mad Men': Sterling, Cooper, Draper and Pryce [Updated]

Those who have complained that “Mad Men” leans too hard on soap opera gauziness finally got their dose of white-knuckled logistics with the finale of Season 3. “Shut the Door. Have a Seat” was a tight balance of emotionally pungent drama and company coup d’etat. From Ossining to Madison Avenue, alliances were strengthened, broken or realigned. It wasn’t always a pretty sight, but for every bedroom face-off, we got zesty moments such as Joan at her most deliciously officious, ransacking manila folders and teasing Roger.

Much as last week’s episode used the Kennedy assassination as a framework for the episode’s events, “Shut the Door” used the hurried formation of Sterling, Cooper, Draper and Pryce as fuel for the fire. The construction and tonal palette lent the episode a painterly Zen-like balance, like something Rothko would create to Cooper’s delight, though it had its redundancies too.

Let’s dive into our swan song, shall we? First of all, what a week for Don. On one hand, his beautiful Titanic of a marriage finally crashed into the iceberg that it’s been jabbing into for years. On the other, a blessed distraction just landed in his lap. Hungry to build something of his own, Don will be able to plunge into his new job as letterhead partner of a fledgling ad agency -- all the better for not dwelling on his marital dissolution.

'Mad Men': The whole country's been drinking

In the middle of ordinary life -- fights with the boss at work, demoralizing demotions, affairs with inappropriate people and witnessing the last vestiges of a formerly intact marriage -- a shot rings out, prompting all to reconsider the fragile tenets of their existence.

Creator Matthew Weiner has always been cagey about whether he’d touch upon the Kennedy assassination in the third season of “Mad Men.” At times Weiner led interviewers to believe he wouldn’t. There’s no way of knowing what impulse was dictating his coyness at the time -- it seems most likely that he simply enjoyed the opportunity to be a big tease to the press, not that we can blame him -- but let’s all take a moment to rejoice that Episode 12, “The Grown Ups,” used the shocking murder of President Kennedy on Nov. 22, 1963, as structure and catalyst for the events of the season's penultimate episode. Weiner and episode co-writer Brett Johnson so adroitly stitched in the historical with the characters’ personal lives that the event, documented to mega-conspiratorial degrees and back again, was made new, almost as if it was unfolding now, especially for those of us who didn’t live through it.

The first character on “Mad Men” to experience the news of Kennedy’s shooting is Duck, of all people, and our after shave-loving friend promptly unplugged the TV to eliminate distractions for his “nooner” with Peggy. This is real life, of course. Every day something tragic leaks over the airwaves, the Internet, the TV and though we might not literally unplug the device, we intellectually distance ourselves from it in order to get through the day. The news first being absorbed by a minor character seemed like a meaningful choice -- this is how big information can disseminate. Maybe you found out that the plane had gone into the first of the Twin Towers from the guy who sold you coffee every morning.

'Mad Men': What's in a name?

It’s not a question you expect to be asking your partner after several years of shared life, but yet, there in the dull lights of their Colonial-style kitchen, where Don and Betty have sat eating countless meals, Betty found herself inquiring with genuine curiosity.

“What's your name?”

Not “When will you be home tonight?” “Can you talk to Sally?” or “Chicken salad or Swedish meatballs?” but simply, “What's your name?” As if they had met five minutes ago. In some ways, introductions were apropos. Betty, meet Dick Whitman, son of a dead prostitute and half-brother of suicide Adam. Dick changed into Don but he’ll always be a blood-deep hobo, a psychic gypsy.

It’s a wonder, what with Suzanne waiting in the car, that Don didn’t bolt right then, plunging headlong into a life of wandering with no ties to anyone, carrying Suzanne along as long as she could stand it, but maybe eventually landing out in California or wherever he could carve out a new life. It was the eve of Halloween -- a time for masks, discarded or new.

In Episode 11, “The Gypsy and the Hobo,” Betty finally confronted Don about the box of secrets she found last week. Given the dedication to slow-burn plotting that “Mad Men” tends to stand by, it was surprising to see this trump card played so quickly after its introduction.

'Mad Men': The boxes that bind

Attention, couples: If one of you has a secret drawer, sooner or later, your partner will break into it. Or at the very least, they will fantasize about breaking into it. We all have secrets and should probably be allowed some secrets, but when they are locked away in a tangible location and are printed on papers with fancy, serious words like decree and deed, well, that’s just asking for trouble. At least keep all that incriminating evidence in a security box at the bank, Don!

If only another TV creation, Tony Soprano, could step in and show this guy how it’s done. Then again, that box in the backyard didn’t work out so great for him either.

When we heard that first metal scrape inside the dryer, there wasn’t anyone who thought, “Ooh, wonder if it’s a silver dollar!” No, we all said, “Uh-oh, Don’s in trouble.” Though Don’s drawer represents many of his most pervasive deceptions, they still have the patina of distance, unlike his affair with Suzanne, which the writers are desperately trying to imbue with a sense of magic.

Speaking of the writers, for those keeping track of  “Mad Men” internal affairs, Episode 10, “The Color Blue,” was penned by creator Matt Weiner and Kater Gordon, Weiner’s former assistant who made a meteoric rise to Emmy-winning scribe, only to be sacked recently amid juicy rumors.

“The Color Blue” felt awkward – it had neither the dreamy elegance of some of the earlier episodes of the season nor the exuberant plot machinations of the infamous lawn mower episode. It clunked along, tossing pleasant enough scenes our way, but it felt like appetizers when all we want this far along in the season is a hearty meal.

'Mad Men': Frisky business

Never trust a man who talks like a cowboy but is dressed in a suit. Lee Garner Jr. of the Lucky Strike account pulled the rug out from under Sal this week, all because Sal wasn’t game for a little frisky action in the editing room. For all parties involved, Lucky Strike turned into an Unlucky Strike-Out, har har.

Garner calls Harry Crane to get Sal fired, but Crane doesn’t take it seriously, figuring it’ll blow over as soon as Garner sobers. Nine times out of 10, he would’ve been right, but the dynamics were trickier than clueless Crane could’ve known. Garner, on some level, was likely worried that Sal would rat out his secret, and it was also a way to exert more sexual power. If not with his body, Garner would enforce his will with his account dollars, the kind, as Don points out, that mean the difference between lights on and lights out at Sterling-Cooper.

The scene between an astounded Sal (actor Bryan Batt played this beautifully) and Don, in a moment of righteous disgust we rarely get to see from our dapper hero, was one of the most unflattering for Don of the season so far. “You people,” he says, with just enough seethe to remind us that Don is not immune to the prejudices of his time.

'Mad Men': 'The Souvenir'

Step aside, dapper gentlemen of Sterling Cooper. “The Souvenir” was Betty’s episode to shine – if only for that updo, a soft and sweeping tower of golden blond hair. She could’ve wandered onto “La Dolce Vita” and elbowed Anita Ekberg off to the side. In fact, Betty’s whole being seemed to glow in the Roman moon. She was like some underwater creature, floating at the bottom of the ocean, undiscovered till now.

Don only sees her power sometimes. When bilingual Betts (and hey, maybe she knows French too) talked politics with him in the kitchen, his eyes lit up, dazzled by her savvy. He saw a rare side to his wife, probably one that came out more in their courtship but is buried all too often these days in preparing chicken salad sandwiches and gossiping with Francine. Henry Francis sees her depth too, but Betty probably won’t let him get any closer than that Cadillac kiss.

When Betty and Don return from Rome, Carla informs them that Sally freaked out on Bobby after he teased her for kissing Ernie. Betty sits down with Sally and, in one of her few moments of mature, sensitive parenting that we’ve seen on-screen, Betty tells Sally what is special about kissing. It’s where you go from a stranger to knowing someone, she says. Every kiss after is a shadow of that first kiss. A lovely explanation to be sure, but she also wedged in “You don’t kiss boys; boys kiss you.” Third-wave feminism, come wash this silliness away!

Of course, eventually Betty wakes up in her Ossining home and realizes that not even Don’s trinket – a sparkling mini-Colosseum for her charm bracelet – will keep the magic intact. They pretended to be lovers on an international tryst, but now it’s back to baby Gene and late nights of not knowing where Don is, with only wafts of cigarette smoke and red wine to keep her company.

'Mad Men': 'Seven Twenty Three'

So, no one lost a foot this episode. Come on, you blood-thirsty animals, we can’t have a severed extremity every show. For those counting the violent acts, Don was clocked in the back of a head by a seemingly future Manson follower. Mr. Fancypants Adman should’ve seen it coming: Never trust anyone under 30 if you’re a square. Especially if they offer you Daddy’s reds.

The quality that was most interesting about these hitchhikers (carting around strangers so rarely works out well for our TV and film friends, will they ever learn?) is that they are the first true harbingers of the hippie movement that will soon sweep the nation’s youth. Sure, we’ve seen beatniks before: Don’s Season 1 girlfriend Midge and creative beardo Paul, who fancies himself as the kind of enlightened aesthete who can finger-pick some folk tunes and recite poetry (mainly to impress girls), but the Niagara Falls-bound hitchhikers were of a different import -- middle class, not particularly educated, with a volatility and paranoia right on the surface. Not that anyone can really blame them – their fears of the draft, after all, are justified. In 1967, the draft numbers escalated dramatically; the nightmarish lottery system started in 1969.

Still, did they have to whack him? Don looked stoned enough to be pushed over by a feather. Episode 7, “Seven Twenty Three” – perhaps a reference to the time of morning that Peggy and Don were both having their “what the hell did I do last night” moments – used as bookends the images of Don doing a faceplant in some cheap hotel carpet, Peggy awakening in her tryst bed with Duck (a lot more on that in a moment) and Betty caught in some housewife ennui on her new fainting couch. At first, the meaning of the poetic images weren’t clear but as the episode progressed, a story pooled around them.

'Mad Men': 'Guy Walks Into an Advertising Agency'

“That’s life: One minute, you’re on top of the world; next minute, some secretary’s running you over with a lawn mower.”

Ah, the wise words of Joan Harris nee Holloway. This was Joan’s episode to shine. Seriously, what can’t this fire-haired beauty do? Not only is she a bastion of bafflingly astute office management ideas like scheduling all the deliveries for the same time so that Sterling Cooper looks all aflutter when the Brits invade, but she can soothe her husband’s insecurities and manage her temper when he’s blunderingly insensitive, which is pretty much all the time.

Oh, and did I mention that she not only knows where the office first-aid kit is (quick: do you?) but can actually demonstrate how to use a tourniquet? Now we know that Joan is the one with brains in her fingers. This is a woman whose capabilities are out-leagued by the sexist but oppressively civilized times she’s living in. Joan would be better off conquering in the wilds of the Middle Ages like her French namesake. Or, in lieu of that, 10 or so years later when the work of women’s liberation really starts to kick in. Hang in there, sister.

In Episode 6, “Guy Walks Into an Advertising Agency,” arteries of all kinds are severed and fused, the blood leaking out or coagulating, opening new veins of hope or humility. For the unfortunately positioned Guy MacKendrick, the Cambridge/London School of Economics prodigy brought in to lead the sweeping reorganization of Sterling Cooper, it means a literal severing of his right foot. According to the ghastly predictions of overlords Ford and Shaughnessy, the young titan who gave even Don Draper a moment of pause will never work again. This is a full decade before the Rehabilitation Act of 1973, which prohibits discrimination on the basis of disability. Here’s hoping that Guy gets a steel boot on the end of that right leg and delivers a solid kick in the buttocks to Ford and Shaughnessy.

'Mad Men': 'The Fog'

Phew, what a relief that was. Eugene Scott Draper, the newest addition to our Ossining family, was born with all his fingers and toes. All season long, “Mad Men” has worried us about Betty’s bun in the oven. Not only was she not sleeping well, but her little fetus had to endure that strange man’s flirtations at the Derby party the other week. Little Eugene’s already seen so much of the sordid, seedy adult life.

But, despite the healthy birth, don’t you still feel on edge? Perhaps it was witnessing so much of Betty’s tripped-out labor. Imagine it: Your husband whisked away the moment you get to the hospital, hallucinations about your recently deceased father, wrestling with a portly nurse, abandoned by your regular doctor, slipping into a narcotic haze… this did not look like a pleasant, easygoing delivery. And how could it when it all kicked off with the following blood-chilling words -- “I’ll shave you and give you a quick, low enema” -- from Nurse Ratched, er, Elaine? Good heavens, Demerol, take this woman away!

In the fifth episode of the season, aptly named “The Fog,” we hunkered down with the Drapers in a way we hadn’t so far, as well as Peggy and Pete. As juicy as the side storylines are, from Sal to Joan, it’s the Drapers and Pete and Peggy who are at the soul of the show. So as we’re nearing the halfway mark in Season 3, we needed to center on them. Still aloft from momentum that started in episode 3, it was another strong show, though different from the last two. “The Fog” was a tonal melange of dream and reality – slippery and fraught.

'Mad Men': 'The Arrangements'

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.