Don tries to embrace fatherhood by taking Bobby to see Planet of the Apes, but this outing also gives him a welcome break from all his normal trials and tribulations.

The characters on Mad Men evolve at individualized, sometimes nomadic paces. Change is usually subtle and understated, but when everything aligns, the differences that shine through are unsettling. It takes a historical tragedy, such as the one that this week’s episode is centered on, to remind us of just how wildly different everyone has become on the show as opposed to where they began. If each person is a spinning top, given the opportunity to freely move around Matthew Weiner’s creative landscape, then “The Flood” is a brilliant snapshot in time — a brief peek into the ever-changing lives of our characters.

The tragedy that brings everyone together this week is the murder of Martin Luther King Jr., which is introduced in anti-climactic form — someone at an advertising awards ceremony shouts it out while Paul Newman is giving a speech. This sets the tone for the episode: Most of it revolves around characters discussing, grieving and consoling each other. But what’s fascinating is that nearly everyone is sentimentally unified. Even the cold-hearted Pete, who is at his most human here, is overcome with emotion.

The story-line that underlays the episode centers on Don who struggles to be mournful while remaining utterly narcissistic.

After Betty and Henry deem the city safe enough for the kids despite the post-Dr. King death rioting, Don picks up Sally, Bobby and Gene and brings them back to his apartment, causing Megan to call Betty “a piece of work” for shoving the children to their place under the day’s circumstances. Megan then takes Sally and Gene to a vigil while the hesitant Bobby stays with Don.

The two of them go to the movies to see Planet of the Apes, a film that ends — paralleling the current world that seems to be in shambles — with the crumbling Statue of Liberty head washed up on the beach. What tempers this quiet, wonderful bonding scene from making us feel as though Don has finally embraced fatherhood for the first time in a while is the notion that this is his reprieve. Whether he seeks it in other women or at the cinema, he deftly eludes the pangs of reality at all costs. He’d rather be here because he’s not at work and he’s not with Megan — he’s far away from all of life’s tribulations. When Bobby strikes up a conversation with a somber African American janitor in the theater, he precociously remarks, “When people are sad, they go to the movies.” The same can almost be said for Don except the sadness never seems to cease so he never has any reason to leave the comfort of his seat and address the pain directly.

I mentioned in the “Collaborators” recap how detached the Mad Men characters were from the tumultuous world; news of the Tet Offensive lingered in the air but it was hardly addressed as a true, horrifying issue. The tragedy in “The Flood,” though, forces everyone to stop what they’re doing for a few moments and acknowledge the present. If SCDP is an insulated community, sealed off from the rest of humanity so that business can grow and develop like plants in a greenhouse, then here, somebody pulled the fire alarm.

And now everyone is huddled together, outside in the cold and the rain.

Tidbits:

-Amid the MLK tragedy, there are a bunch of tiny side plots that touch upon the events of the day. They include: Henry Francis’ decision to be Senator, Peggy choosing not to live on the Upper East Side after losing a bid on an apartment and Pete’s valiant (but failed) effort at reconnecting with Trudy to comfort her and their child.

-Pete and Harry’s argument was interesting. I don’t think I’ve ever sided with Pete, but I did here.

-Good job, Weiner on picking Planet of the Apes.

-We need more Bert Cooper (and more Roger Sterling).

-The small plot with Michael Ginsberg and his search (or lack thereof) for a woman was well-constructed. He’s one of the most underrated characters on the show, with the potential of blooming into a full-on, fast-talking Woody Allen caricature. I look forward to watching him evolve.