In Which I Passionately Discuss Mad Men

One of my favorite things about television, or at least the type of television I gravitate towards, is how it is like a great book or novel. Each season being a different volume in some great series. I guess growing up a huge Harry Potter nerd means I have an affection for serialized storytelling. And I'm always hungry for more. I have an unquenchable appetite for a story with plot, purpose, and payoff. People that feel like actual people is also a plus. In terms of visuals, I've grown to even love the technical side of things, finding myself appreciating certain shots or sequences that a causal viewer may not even notice. Obviously these latter qualities are unique to visual media, but craft is craft. Whether it is a book whose prose you find poignant or if it's a television show whose visual motifs you admire above all else, it almost doesn't even matter what's being said when the presentation is just so damn good. And obviously, one such show to possess all this since its start, has been Mad Men.

When I am in the midst of a season of Mad Men, I feel like I'm in the midst of a great book. Not just in terms of seasonal arcs or plotting, but in the sense that I need time to absorb the chapter I just finished. I need to actively consider the style and structure choices. I need to dissect characters and their actions. I need a moment to recall the lines of dialogue and how they were delivered. And to speculate on where it's all going. And I also can't wait to get online and read how other people interpreted the episode. It's like a great big book club for me. Or an English class in which last night's reading is brought to discussion. I always look forward to reading some Mad Men recaps to gather various points of view or discussion. And heck, Mad Men has made me love comment sections because I will absolutely seek those out. Even the people commenting bring up fantastic points that I would never have thought of on my own. It often ends up being a jumping off point to parse my own theories and analyses. And what makes Mad Men so good is that so much is left open. Matthew Weiner doesn't give definitive answers--which he should never do, to be honest--he just lets people have their own relationship with the ambiguities of his work. And in that sense, it's like a great book.

After last Sunday's sixth season finale, I tweeted that it was probably one of my least favorite seasons of the show. But honestly, that means nothing. Because even the worst season of Mad Men is amazing. And also because I've had almost a week to reflect and while I may still stand by that statement, the season overall has grown on me. The things that I found boring and repetitive were meant to feel boring and repetitive. I was so sick of Don Draper this season. And his endless cycle of self-destructive drinking and cheating and "mystery." It didn't feel exciting or compelling anymore. It didn't feel much of anything. It was lifeless and indifferent and habitual. Yes there were painful low points, but I didn't feel sympathy in those moments. I felt disgusted and sick of it all. But now that the season is over and I'm looking at this complete thing, I realize it felt that way for a reason. Because even Don felt that way about himself.

For example, I was so uninterested in the brothel flashbacks. But I have now fully realized their necessity to the understanding of Don Draper slash Dick Whitman. At times I thought it was just about mommy issues and why Don treats women the way he does. And while it was about that, it was only partially. The flashbacks kept going, implying there was more to them. Their overuse and heavy-handedness are exactly what got everyone talking about them. Every recapper and commenter was rolling their eyes at those whorehouse scenes not knowing that it was all leading up to this incredible character moment in which Don lets his Dick out in a meeting. Similarly, everyone was wondering, "What's the deal with Bob Benson?" which led to a great reveal that's not even really about Bob that much at all. Instead we reflect on Don and who he is, where he started, and what he's become. But Bob's existence wasn't merely about holding a mirror up to Don Draper. It was actually done in a fantastically rich way. Because Bob feels like a character now. He's only been around thirteen episodes, and we don't know much about him, but there's enough there to hold our attention. And all at once, in Bob's reveal, we were presented with fantastic writing for more than one character. It's a twofer. And it feels genius because it came so easily and led to so much more. Because all of this--the brothel flashbacks and Dick slips and Bob Bension mysteries--was in the service of not only character, but plot and story. This whole season was leading us there and we didn't even know it. We were looking directly at it--we were complaining about it and speculating about it--and it still managed to surprise us. And it's fucking amazing. In its subtlety, seeming simplicity, and denouement, it is all amazing. And it's quintessential Mad Men.

There was also the death imagery from the season's opener. And the quote from Dante's "Inferno" that was ever present in our minds, heavily implying that Don had entered some sort of existential hell this season. Not to mention the chaos of 1968, the assassinations and riots, the sirens constantly blaring, the drug induced hallucinations...and also that bayonet incident. But after the Hershey speech it's now clear that the imagery wasn't necessarily foreshadowing someone's actual death (although, to be fair, the finale did include one) but possibly the death of Don Draper. And I love where this season left off. Not only the speech and what it implies about Don's state, but also that brief moment between Sally and Don. And even the moment between Sally and Betty in the previous episode. And also Peggy and Ted. And Peggy and that pantsuit. And Pete and his family. And Joan and Roger (and Kevin). And Don and SC&P. And Megan and that mouth of hers. And Ken and his one eye. And obviously, what its always been about: Don Draper and Dick Whitman.

Knowing that the next season of Mad Men is going to be its last has got me excited. I'm looking forward for this show to end. And not in any sort of negative way, but because I'm ready for some resolution. The show has run its course and everyone knows it. It's been quality since the beginning and I can't wait to see the end. To see where the story leaves us. And to see how the volume fits on the shelf.

Arrested Development: Season Four

It's been about a month since Arrested Development's entire fourth season premiered on Netflix, and therefore sufficient time to not only mull over and discuss the episodes, but give others the opportunity to do the same, I have finally decided to post some quick thoughts about the season (which, keep in mind, I have only watched the one time).

I had mixed emotions going into AD's fourth season. The original run happened so long ago and was so finely shaped by the times it existed in, that I was concerned how an Obama administration, a decimated and recovering housing market, a lack of Iraq war, and the existence of silly new technology would affect the feel of a show I truly love. The fact that these serious societal concerns can even be applied to a comedy goes to show how truly genius Arrested Development is and I was simply concerned that the same level of genius couldn't be repeated.

And the conclusion I have come to in regards to that concern probably best resembles a blurry gray area with some points. The fourth season itself has some incredibly funny moments and small little wry/clever jokes that only Arrested Development could deliver. Upon marathoning the season I found myself concerned that the show wasn't as funny as its original run. At first I found the character centric premise to be somewhat tiresome and grating while the individual episodes felt bloated and strange. But as the season continued, the episodes got better and better until we finally got to Maeby's truly hilarious and explanatory episode. And Maeby's episode led into George-Michael's which brought conclusion, cliff-hanger, and hilarity as well. So in the end, comedically, I'd have to say the season was overall a success. However, it took me some time to come to that conclusion.

I have to say that I did not laugh much during the first few episodes of season four. Don't get me wrong, I was having a good time and a couple of jokes here and there really tickled me, but it wasn't until probably Tobias' first episode that I felt the show finally found its footing. And thankfully, by Gob's episodes, I was fully on board (I'll go on the record as saying Gob and Maeby probably centered my favorite episodes). The recurring gags and jokes were working well and each episode managed to build on the humor and become funnier and funnier. However, I was still having issues up until the very end. And I immediately realized that the issues had more to do with the structure than anything else.

Now, going into the season, Mitchell Hurwitz and the cast did their best to set up the premise: that episodes were to be character-centric, that plot points were happening out of sequence, that it was all happening simultaneously and non-linearly, and we would have to piece it all together as we went along. We all knew this going in. And it was incredibly ambitious and at times quite successful. But as much as I admire it, I didn't love it. I found the constant revisiting of Cinco de Quatro (among other things) to be tiresome. I was getting antsy. At some points I honestly didn't even care anymore to piece it all together--I was just sick of spinning my wheels in the same settings and seeing the same things without moving forward. There's something to be said for thoroughness, but there's also something to be said for momentum. Yes the jokes and pieces coming together were quite clever, but I was eager for more. I was eager to move past all this. I felt the show was concerning itself too much with its clever little premise than about progressing. It was chasing its own tail and it felt as tiring as it looked. And for all that I have to blame Netflix.

Seeing as that Netflix is not an actual television channel and does not have commercials or time slots, each episode could be as long as Hurwitz and Co. wanted. And I think it was a detriment to the season. Some episodes felt too long. And jokes were left in that, honestly, weren't very funny. What made Arrested Development's original run so genius was partially due to its time constraint. Twenty-two minutes to tell a cohesive story. And they did it. They did it hilariously. And it built on itself in a refreshing way. Instead of digging a hole by spinning in the same place, the old Arrested Development solidly rose higher and higher before our very eyes and it was amazing. Every single joke was a keeper, and it was probably because the weaker ones were left on the editing room floor. The fact that little Easter eggs, foreshadowing, and self references also managed to make the cut further cemented its comedic genius by ultimately elevating the show. Yet this time around, those contraints didn't exist. Hurwitz instead tried creating his own constraints, which led to humor and were smart and impressive at times, but were also the weakest aspect of the newest season. It didn't build toward anything much, in my opinion. It was just held up against a wall. Knowing that this is the first third of a longer story possibly leading into another season/movie didn't comfort me. There are too many "ifs" and those deals simply haven't been made. So we were left with this rutted, incomplete story.

My immediate impression of the season in early June was clouded by these structural issues. It didn't feel like Arrested Development. It was impressive and funny, but it wasn't the same. Michael wasn't acting like Michael, but was instead too much of a Bluth. Some jokes were too obviously set up. There was way too much Ron Howard on both the screen and in voiceovers. There wasn't enough ensemble work. Etc. But the clouds lifted and as time went on, I found myself referencing the new jokes in every day conversation. I was working quotes into my speech much like I did with the original run. Certain gags stayed with me over time and I thoroughly realized how very funny they were. The contentious ending was something I actually really liked. The cameos were over the top and over-relied upon, yes, but they were also constant highlights of the episodes. The songs were all hilarious. The successful use of running gags from the show's original run with new ones they created were impressive and a joy. The confusing set ups and little details of the earlier episodes in the season made much more sense to me. And all these actors and writers and crew actually all came back to create it. It actually exists for our entertainment. And it WAS entertaining. And it is way better than almost any other sitcom on actual television.

So overall, like it's structure, my thoughts on Arrested Developmen't's fourth season was very much like a puzzle I had to piece together. I had to work for this conclusion, which really makes me appreciate it. There were incredibly hilarious high points and some questionable low points. But when you place them all next to each other, and step back to look at the bigger picture, you realize how ambitious, funny, and clever the season really was. I'm still not completely in love with it--its no early Arrested Development--but I enjoyed myself immensely. What more can you ask for? I was entertained and impressed and it made me think and my commitment paid off. Those are all things I love in my television shows. It grew on me. And I'm so glad it did. Because I can't wait to sit down and watch it all again.