‘Mad Men’: Flight 1

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The second episode of Season Two further darkened both the mood of the show and the increasingly voluminous bags under Don Draper’s eyes. Vincent Kartheiser’s scenes were particularly well written and well acted. In contrast to Don Draper –- who gains complexity through the tidbits we learn about his past –- Pete Campbell almost entirely develops in the show’s present. Whether intentional or not, this difference in character development strikes me as savvy.

The title of the episode refers to an American Airlines flight that crashed into Jamaica Bay in 1962, an event that captures the attention of Duck Phillips, in turn resulting in a level of craven opportunism that we haven’t really seen so far at Sterling Cooper. You may recall that last week the team was focused on creating new print ads for Mohawk Airlines; it turns out that that wasn’t just for atmospherics. After Flight 1 crashes, Duck persuades Roger Sterling and Bert Cooper that the agency has a shot at winning the American Airlines account. His contact there suggests that the company will need a “fresh start,” and fresh starts entail losing your baggage, if you will. Don very reasonably points out that it isn’t necessarily the most prudent move to shed a good client just so you can maybe possibly perhaps pitch to a bigger client, but in the end, Roger slugs back a drink and tells Don that he has to ditch Mohawk Airlines. Don asks what sort of agency they want to be, to which Roger replies: “The kind where everyone has a summer house?”

But that’s not all that Flight 1 has to do with Sterling Cooper.

After participating in the maudlin puns of clever ad people/frustrated literati about the crash, Pete finds out that his father was aboard the plane. After slugging back a drink in his office, Pete tells Don the news, and they slug back another drink in Don’s office. This scene was very nicely done: Pete, in shock, doesn’t know what to do or whether he’s even going to tell anyone. What does one do in these situations, he wants to know? He’s not even sure how old his father was, and people will surely ask that. Don tells him to go home and be with his family. “Is that what you would do?” Pete asks. Don says yes. Pete presses him but appears to decide that Don is telling him the truth, and he leaves.

Oh, and what a family it is that he goes home to. In a formal drawing room suffused with WASPy propriety and passive aggression, Pete’s hard-of-hearing mother is attended by her two sons and their wives. Pete’s brother, Bud, works to make arrangements while his wife tells the new widow that her husband was “a fine man –- so well mannered and civic. My father admired him.” Pete’s mother, abruptly baffled by a decorative pink elephant, tells Trudy to take it, and Trudy spends a good part of the scene clutching this objet in her arms as if it were an infant. After getting off the phone with the lawyer, Bud doesn’t have good news for Pete: Their father didn’t just burn through his money but also took out loans against their mother’s more ample trust to fund his “oysters, travel and club memberships.” Do I even need to tell you what the brothers do in the face of this disturbing information? They slug back a drink. Bar carts were set up everywhere in those days. That must be why you see so many at estate sales.

Duck Phillips’ superficial, sales-guy considerateness moves him to stop by Pete’s office to offer his condolences about his loss while informing Pete that the agency will be pursuing American Airlines. He wants Pete on the team. Pete says it makes him uncomfortable, and Duck backs off. Unfortunately, Pete picks the wrong time to stop by Don’s office (presumably to discuss the situation, now that they’ve bonded a bit over the news about Pete’s dad). In a bad mood because he’s been given an edict to get rid of Mohawk, Don barks Pete out of the office.

What followed was a little too causally neat –- or perhaps too quick –- for me, but you might feel differently. Duck and his American Airlines insider, Shel, are meeting at the University Club, and, unsurprisingly, Shel is nowhere close to as firm about an agency switch as Duck has made him out to be. Duck’s putting on the hard sell but not really getting anywhere until Pete shows up and assures Shel that Sterling Cooper will be deeply committed to the account. And why is that? Because someone there knows what the company is going through -– you know, because Pete’s father was on that flight. I’m not sure if this is a threat, but it’s a trump card of some sort (echoing the bridge game that takes place in this episode, too; more on this to come), and Shel tells Pete that this information will be passed on to the right people.

Meanwhile, Don has gone to a Japanese-themed restaurant to give Mohawk the bad news. “I’m glad you picked this place,” Henry Lamott says knowingly. “It reminds me of Pearl Harbor for many reasons.” Don informs him that Sterling Cooper has decided to end its relationship with Mohawk. Lamott reminds Don of the pitch he’d heard from the agency: that the agency was Don Draper, that they didn’t need a big airline because they’d make Mohawk a big airline. He tells Don that he’s embarrassed to admit that they fooled him, and he walks out. The bags under Don’s eyes sag so low they rest on the table like sleeping kittens. Later, after Don has slugged back more drinks, a waitress flirts with him, but he declines to engage –- for the moment.

For a 50-minute show, the writers pack in a great deal. Just like they tell you to do at the writing factory. In this episode, we also learn a little bit more about Peggy’s situation, which seems to be that her mother and sister are raising her son, whom Peggy tries her best to ignore unless she’s guilted into looking at him or he’s foisted upon her in church while her mother and sister take Communion. Oh, and Peggy makes out with a guy named Eugene, but she doesn’t let it go any farther than that, showing that she did at least learn something.

There’s also a party at Kinsey’s house in Montclair, N.J., which is not the Montclair of today. Back then, it was apparently where would-be hipsters, who were called beatniks I’m told, set up house so as to be cooler than people who lived in Manhattan. Kinsey, in addition to sporting a beard, a neckerchief, and a pipe, also has a black girlfriend, and Joan unleashes a series of condescending remarks on this Sheila White. Based on this little arc and the fact that Carla, the Drapers’ housekeeper, had more than one speaking line in the last episode, I am going to speculate that the topic of race will be worked into the plot more this year, particularly as time marches deeper into the civil rights era. As retribution, Kinsey (I assume –- we only see the culprit’s arm) photocopies Joan’s driver’s license and puts it up for all to see –- and what they see is that she’s in her 30s. That was more damning in those days.

Finally, on the home front, the Drapers host Francine and Carleton for bridge, and little Sally mixes the drinks. That is totally frowned upon now, FYI. Carleton shares with Don that he lusts after the Catholic schoolgirl who babysits for them, and while Betty is cleaning up at bridge, Carleton’s gaze seems to linger on her a little too long. Or maybe that’s just my own gaze since I admire adept bidding and play. When Don and Betty are alone again, he remarks that Carleton has packed on a few pounds, and Betty delusionally speculates that it’s because he’s happy. Don demurs, and Betty seems itching for a fight, though Don refuses to engage. Oddly, Betty deals with the tension by smoking instead of slugging back a drink.

Where is this season headed, viewers? Prognostications welcome.

-- Sarah Rogers