There have always been women in key roles on Mad Men, but something has changed. A series set in the tumultuous 1960’s at a Madison Avenue advertising agency was going to have to grapple with the changing roles of women during that time. And while they have been important to the ongoing story, these female characters have been–more often than not–either in supporting roles or as foils for the male leads. Not so any more.
With so much in flux-Draper out of the office, an LA branch now in operation, the continual struggles with heavyweight client Chevy-the women on the show are becoming something more than before, and the show is better for it. With Don out of commission, Roger dropping acid between orgies, and Pete reinventing himself in the California sun, showrunner Matthew Weiner is painting more-nuanced portraits of these fascinating women.
The year is 1969. Hillary Rodham Clinton is graduating from Wellesley in those oversized glasses, the National Organization for Women is three years old, and women’s rights are on the move. In the ad agency now known as SC&P, women are not only manning the phones, but increasingly becoming involved in the business itself. Peggy has been ascending the creative ladder for a while, but now Joan is moving into account work. Dawn has taken her place as office manager, and even the bouffant receptionist has moved behind a secretary’s desk. Sisters are indeed doing it for themselves.
Joan has always been an important piece in the Mad Men universe. In many ways she is the uber-woman: a gorgeous, buxom redhead with a will strong enough to go toe-to-toe with any man and a job managing all of the other women. She has also suffered many indignities and tragedies related to her gender: a secret pregnancy, dismissive words because of her looks, and even trading sex for a promotion. Last season she dipped her toe in the water of business by going out on a limb to land Avon. At the urging of Jim, she has now moved upstairs, occupying an office that puts her squarely on that side of the aisle. She’s literally moving on up.
The newest character, Pete’s California girl Bonnie Whiteside, has contributed to this zeitgeist. While Pete fumbles and fumes in his quest for new clients, Bonnie gladhands and closes deals in the Los Angeles real estate market. When she has to explain to Pete the way business works, it’s a power shift not just of knowledge but of experience. The Petes of the world better watch out, because the next decade will see the Bonnies taking over their territory.
The most interesting contradiction within this move involves Peggy. The first to cross the secretary-boss rubicon, Peggy now finds herself in a precarious position in this man’s world. Sunday’s episode showed her at her worst, treating her girl Shirley as badly as Don ever treated her. A miscommunication about the provenance of a dozen roses put Peggy in the role of oppressor, signaling a shift that exposed Peggy’s place in the office as more of a female Pete than a champion of gender equality. It’s hard being Peggy right now.
It’s also hard being Don Draper’s daughter, as Sally has found out each passing year. She had just about wiped her hands of him last season after seeing him in full coital ecstasy with his mistress du jour. Her rebuff hurt Don in ways his armor usually won’t allow. After running into trouble in the city, she is forced to spend some time with him on her way back to school. Their uncomfortable car ride and subsequent meal at a roadside diner was some of the best work we’ve seen this series do in a while. She again paints a picture of her disappointment, making him face his missteps head on. It is clear that Sally is the only person that can speak truth to Don, and he’s lucky to have her. As they come to a detente, she utters the line of the season, maybe of the entire series: “I’m so many people.” This is not only what any confused teenager might feel, especially one from a broken home, but exemplifies the plight of the female characters on this show. They must balance who they are with what they want and how they are expected to act. It’s a tiresome task.
As the manliest of the Mad Men, Don’s descent into tedium enforces shift in gender focus on the show. He’s now reduced to day drinking while watching television, a very unemployed bachelor maneuver which makes sense for a man suspended from his job with his wife living it up on the other coast. When he visits, she not only drives, but lets him know the passenger seat can’t be moved back, leaving little room for him in her car and maybe in her life. He only makes himself get dressed when someone comes over, usually Dawn making a visit to keep him in the loop. There’s just not much to see with Don at this point. He’s working with Freddy Rumsen to keep his creative juices flowing, but he’s neither noble or self destructive enough to make us care.
As with everything on this show, it’s more complicated than up-with-women and down-with-men. Many of the dominoes on this show fall because they are pushed by men, be it Lou’s unthoughtful dismissal of Dawn, or Burt Cooper unleashing his inner Klansman by demanding she be removed from the receptionists chair because of her race. With only a dozen episodes left in the series, the men surely aren’t finished as important cogs in this dramatic machine, but right now our attention is focused elsewhere. The ladies of Mad Men are reflecting the world around them, and as Sunday’s episode showed us, they can carry the series all on their own. This might be something we more of moving forward.