05.19.15 |
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New Yorker TV critic Emily Nussbaum (and yes, spoilers in the quote and article for the entire Mad Men finale):
I don’t think the show was saying that real change is impossible. In fact, nearly everyone around Don changed quite a lot, and in ways that ring true for people living through decades—a real rarity in a TV show. Pete and Peggy and Joan, in particular, barely resemble the people they were at the beginning of the show. They’re stronger, clearer, and also more ethical. Their relationships are authentic. (Roger not so much, but that’s why we love Roger.) But if Don Draper is as much a symbol as a person, maybe that’s the point.
Among the many shows its compared against – from The Sopranos to Breaking Bad – Mad Men’s final world view ends up far more optimistic.
04.17.15 |
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Vox’s Todd VanDerWerff on Mad Men and TV’s transition away from antiheroes:
The story of Mad Men isn’t about a man who slowly closes himself off from others. It’s the story of a man who builds a workplace family around himself, even if he’s not consciously aware of it. For as lousy of a husband and father as Don is, he’s often a magnificent coworker. He recognizes in his protege, Peggy Olson, something that nobody else likely would have, and he urges Joan Harris not to do something unthinkable simply to land an account.
06.03.14 |
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Yes, Mad Men’s midseason finale was a week ago. But after an extremely busy week at work, I finally caught up to this A.V. Club review by Todd VanDerWerff and Sonia Saraiya and it’s incredible (spoilers for the episode below and of course in the post):
As aware as Mad Men is of the future—because it’s really about our present, told through the lens of 1960-1969—its characters are conscious of the past. Bert was a piece of that past—a piece laid to rest tonight, as astronauts did the unthinkable and miraculous. There is no moment that says the past is over more powerfully than the moon landing. And for this show, there is no more powerful moment that says the past is over than killing off Bert Cooper and selling his agency before his body is cold. Bert was the past, and now the show’s sense of past is gone. The future is now, as Cutler intimates to Roger—SC&P is becoming “the ad agency of the future.” And that means the next crop of people to die will be those characters currently left standing in the halls of the Time-Life building. Great moments have a way of boiling down to the exact same feeling—a dawning realization that outside of the hustle to stay alive, the only thing that is waiting for you, for sure, is death.
03.29.14 |
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The penultimate season of Mad Men starts in a few weeks, so it’s a great time to look back at some of the show’s definitive episodes. “The Wheel” is undoubtedly one of them. As A.V. Club writer Todd VanDerWerff writes, that pitch to Kodak is still incredible:
Somewhere in the middle of that pitch, though, he [Don] realizes the place he longs to go is the place he’s already talking about, even if he won’t allow himself to feel that for more than a millisecond. He’s trapped by time, as we all are, forced to live our lives in sequence, as the same, flawed people who never really realize the truth of who they really are at heart, which is wounded and beaten and fleeting. But also, possibly, kind and good and capable of something outside of themselves.
11.29.13 |
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Really cool to see The A.V. Club’s Todd VanDerWerff go way back and review the pilot episode of this great show. He’s following up with reviews of the whole first season in coming weeks.
06.28.13 |
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Matt Zoller Seitz on season six (warning, full article and my notes below contain spoilers for the season finale):
I’ll revisit this whole season again later this week and write an overview piece. For now this strikes me as Mad Men’s weakest season overall, often lacking the thematic, visual and rhythmic unity of seasons one through five – though there’s a chance that it’ll feel more complete and organized once I’ve had a chance to re-watch the entire thing. It might even seem to have a certain “drunk’s logic” to it, with the show flailing and lurching and stopping and starting like Don groping toward his epiphany.
I’m no critic, and nowhere near the TV intelligence of a master like Seitz, but I’d agree with his assessment. Thematic unity was something that when I think back to the earlier seasons was really prevalent: Don’s struggles in season one, the women characters being brought to the forefront in season two. Naturally when you get to know these characters after this much time, some jumping around in season six was expected. But not quite this much. And frankly, while the great acting helped a lot (reason number one this show remains clearly one of the best on televison) I didn’t buy Don’s ‘coming clean’ moment at all.
I still can’t wait to revisit those Peggy and Don scenes at a later date. Just phenomenal work. I have no idea where Matt Weiner will be taking us for the last season but I’m excited.
06.27.13 |
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Press Play’s Arielle Bernstein:
In many ways, Mad Men’s insistence on denying us the pleasure of resolution is the secret to its success and the reason so many of us are hooked on it, despite being frustrated that nothing ever really changes, time and time again. Repetition of experience is electric. It grounds us in the past and connects us to the present. We think what we seek is an experience, which is new, but what we really want to feel connected to is an experience that makes us feel happy and safe, in a way we once felt happy and safe before.
05.31.13 |
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Matt Zoller Seitz on today’s great era of TV direction:
Where’s their MoMA retrospective? Why is there no auteur theory of TV?
One explanation is that movies have a half-century head start on TV, so there’s been more time for critics to settle on terms and definitions. I like to tell people that TV, as both business and art, is at roughly the same place in its development as cinema was in the late fifties, around the time that the French floated the auteur theory. We’re still figuring out who the “author” is on TV shows. We’re still taking into account whether we’re talking about the show as a whole or a particular episode, and why. We rarely think of TV as being directed, unless the show’s main creative force has already been identified as a theatrical director (as David Lynch was before Twin Peaks) or doubles as the show’s star (like Louis C.K. or Lena Dunham).
I’ve become more aware of reoccurring TV directors on shows as varied as Breaking Bad, Game of Thrones and even New Girl. I know there’s a “voice” there, but I admit I rarely make a connection with what’s onscreen the way I do with a “name” film director. Seitz helps explain why.
04.17.13 |
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It’s a new season of Mad Men which means a new set of Tom and Lorenzo posts on the series’ costume design and fashion choices. If you don’t believe costume design is a critical cinematic influence, read these posts, you’ll be a believer. I especially liked a reference to Sally’s first appearance on season six:
It’s notable how much Sally stands apart. Betty and Mama Francis are tied together; Betty and Sandy are tied together; but Sally, in her brilliant blue dress and simple hair (the simplest female hair in the scene, if not the entire show, signaling the adoption of more relaxed hairstyles for young girls in the post-hippy period), she’s a bolt of sarcasm cutting the room in half.
12.21.12 |
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Adam Davidson for The New York Times:
This business model, perhaps as much as artistic creativity, is responsible for TV’s current golden age. Networks have effectively entered into a quality war. Basic-cable channels have to broadcast shows that are so good that audiences will go nuts when denied them. Pay-TV channels, which kick-started this economic model, are compelled to make shows that are even better. And somehow, they all seem to be making insane amounts of money.
We’re clearly in an amazing TV era, but, as Davidson surmises, how much of it is dependent on the quasi-monopolistic system cable providers run now? What happens when content shifts to the web?