“Whereas last week’s episode focused on shifts taking place under the surface — racial undertones permeating the workplace, a father and daughter growing closer — this week’s “Field Trip” gives viewers concrete, palpable changes.” – Michael Errigo
“Okay.”
You’d think that a man who has made a career out of choosing the right words would have a more eloquent answer when he’s offered his life back, but Don Draper settles for those four letters.
There is no excitement in “okay”, nor is there any gratitude. “Okay” is an acceptance, willing or not, of what is presented. “Okay” is a poor man’s “yes.” So when Sterling Cooper & Pryce, the ad firm that Don helped bring to power long ago only to watch it bring him to his knees, tells the former ad man he can come back only if he plays by their rules he simply says, “Okay.”
Whereas last week’s episode focused on shifts taking place under the surface — racial undertones permeating the workplace, a father and daughter growing closer — this week’s “Field Trip” gives viewers concrete, palpable changes. Don is back. Mr. and Mrs. Draper are certainly on the rocks, if not broken up. Betty is a bad mother. Okay, fine, only one of those is a real change. But this episode also marks a shift in the inter-office dynamic on Madison Avenue, one that will no doubt play a big role in this seventh and final season.
But let’s start at the beginning. When Megan’s agent Alan calls Don to tell him that his wife has gone a little bit off the rails in her pursuit of success in sunny California, its Draper to the rescue. One plane ride later, he’s back in Megan’s arms, citing a “hankering” as his reason for being there.
After his hankering is satisfied, Don comes clean about his current employment to Megan, who thought his odd scheduling and background silence on phone calls meant her man was having an affair. This admission to Megan is a big one for Don as he largely dislikes the taste of his own pride.
Last season, after their spontaneous rendezvous, Betty pointed out to Don that only after sex is he vulnerable, is he human. All the swagger and the confidence has gone away in those couple of post-coital moments because, at least for now, he has what he wants. It’s in these moments that he ends his big charade with Megan. It’s all out there. He’s not Don Draper the creative genius anymore; he’s Don Draper who eats Ritz crackers on the couch, the one that goes to see movies alone.
Megan, already upset at learning Don’s real reason for the rescue mission (“It was stupid to think that you could possibly miss me”), can’t believe he never told her. She can’t believe he’s lived his life alone in a lie for so long. “With a clear head, you got up every day and decided you didn’t want to be with me,” she says. With that, she kicks him out of her house and out of California. She leaves the room and Don is left standing alone, shirt not yet re-tucked.
On the phone later that week, Megan is still in disbelief of the act Don pulled for so long. He explains he was afraid of what she would think. “I can’t believe after all this time you don’t know me,” she says.
“I know how I want you to see me,” responds her husband. He floats out an “I love you,” but it just sits there unanswered.
Out in the suburbs, we get our first look at Betty Draper this season. She’s going on a field trip to the farm with Bobby’s class. Chaperoning is a parental duty that takes a lot of passion, something we’ve never seen from Betty as a mother. Maybe change is afoot.
While having lunch with a friend, Betty gets called “old-fashioned.” She seems a bit surprised by the word choice and a bit offended considering the negative connotation that often goes with it. A constant theme in this season so far has been the emergence of a new changes in society (and in the workplace, as evidenced by the technology arms race Harry Crane faces) and how each character reacts to it. In addition to the increased prevalence of diversity that was touched on last episode, there is also a new free-wheeling sexuality to the youth of the late ‘60s, something we saw in episode one in Roger’s orgy and we see again in Betty criticizing the young teacher’s blouse. Weiner’s continuous weaving of these societal changes into the changes of the character’s lives is just one of the things that has made the show brilliant to this point.
On the field trip, what seems like a new relaxation in Betty quickly turns to her typical coldness after Bobby ruins her lunch. In bed that night she turns to Henry for an answer she’s never known. Speaking about Don Draper’s three kids, she asks, “Why don’t they love me?”
On the business side of things, Don seems increasingly impatient with his unemployment. He barks at Dawn when she’s too busy to carry out her discreet acts of loyalty. He takes a dinner with another firm. He visits Roger. Roger, who he hasn’t seen in so long. Roger, the one that used to be his best friend in the office. And Roger gives him what he needs. Come back, he says.
So, in a particularly beautiful sequence (Don imagining how his first day back would go cut with reality all in a muffled, out of body sort of way), Don returns to the office he once ruled. As he waits for the often-tardy Roger, an embarrassed Don sits through a series of uncomfortable hellos. Lou Avery. Dawn. Ginsburg. Even Joan. They all treat him with a certain awkward sense of formality. They treat him like an unwelcome stranger. The only one with genuine happiness on display is good ‘ole one-eyed Kenny Cosgrove. Bless his heart.
In a series of about ten minutes, Weiner manages to make every single character at SC&P — with the exception of Kenny and Roger — seem like a foreign entity, an evil “them.” Their hostility to this man that we the viewers can’t help but love is jarring in a way. Even his former protégé shows no love. “Well, I can’t say that we missed you,” she says. Et tu, Peggy?
This idea of Don versus the world first started in the season six finale when he’s forcibly put on leave but that sense of disconnect becomes really clear in this reunion. It should be interesting to see if Don can earn back the trust of all those people who looked up to him at one time.
The partners agree to let Don back mostly because of the cost. Not only would it cost a lot of money to buy him out, to see him go to another could prove disastrous. Their reservations are mostly about the possibility that he could disrupt things. “How does he fit into everything now? This is working,” Joan says. Is it though? The truth is that SC&P is slipping whether the partners want to admit it or not. Last week’s mess of a partner’s meeting was indicative of the dissention on the top floor that wasn’t going away anytime soon. Draper is here to save the day for a second time in the episode, but this time he doesn’t have to pay airfare.
If he wants to come back, Don has to follow some stipulations. He can’t be alone with clients, can’t wander from the approved script in pitch meetings. He has to report to Lou. He can’t even drink. It’s only fitting that he’ll be facing these changes in the old office of a dead man.
But the ad man has no choice. He needs this. For once, he needs “them.”
So he says, “Okay.”
Sidenotes:
– This idea of viewers falling out of love with Peggy continues with her coldness to Don. This new Peggy is frustrated, mean and negative. Hopefully this changes. She’s the closest thing we have to a second protagonist in an office devoid of hope.
– Two great matchups to watch going forward: Roger vs Jim and Don vs Lou.
– Lou is still the worst.
– “Boy you smell good.” Classic weird Ginsburg.
– Episode three and still no Bob Benson. There should be a rule from now on that Matt Weiner can’t deprive us of Bob Benson and California Pete in the same episode. There needs to be some source of happiness in such a bleak world.
