Parks & Recreation Recap, “The Flu”

Ricky Gervais’ second turn as host of the Golden Globes went badly. Robert Downey Jr. called the vibe “hugely mean-spirited, with mildly sinister undertones.” It’s likely the everyone in that room loved Gervais when he played David Brent in The Office, but not so much when it was David Brent presenting their awards. Because that’s what Gervais was doing – he played David Brent, a man willing to say anything for a laugh, no matter how uncomfortable or over the line. The tension at the Golden Globes demonstrated the downside of that approch.

In adapting The Office for American television, the showrunners toned down the level of discomfit. That might seem impossible, considering some of Michael Scott’s cringe-worthy behavior (like dumping coffee on Holly’s Woody doll), but the UK Office featured a scene in which Brent and some others pinned a man to the floor and yanked his pants off for a joke. Parks and Recreation, which began life as a second-degree knockoff of The Office, has distinguished itself from its predecessors, becoming a very funny and unique sitcom. It’s done this through a kind of intentional generation loss; just as the US Office shed some of the UK’s nastier elements while reproducing it, P&R has further sanitized the US Office. While still funny, its outstanding feature is this: it is now the sweetest, warmest show on television. And that might be a real problem.

Mad Men Recap, “Tomorrowland”

Sure, you have an affair with the kind of spooky hot secretary, who speaks perfect French and has imperfect teeth, but marry her?

Mad Men Recap, Blowing Smoke

“Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” was the title of Mad Men’s pilot episode. In it, Don faced a crisis with a tobacco client. Lucky Strike needed advertising – the government had just decreed it was illegal to promote smoking’s health benefits. Tough problem: how do you advertise something you can’t talk about? “I don’t want to go to school today,” he told his mistress, Midge, the bohemian with the witch’s nose. By episode’s end, he pulled a rabbit from the hat, realizing that the gag order was actually the starter’s gun, kicking off a competition in pure advertisement: you can’t say smoking’s healthy; but you can say anything else you want.

In “Blowing Smoke,” the set-up for season 4’s finale, Don again bumps into Midge with the witch’s nose. He again faces a crisis regarding Lucky Strike – only this time, the problem is Lucky Strike doesn’t need a campaign. And, once again, Don proves in a moment of inspiration that if does have a true self somewhere in his blackened, twisted core, that homunculus is an ad man.

But this is the end of season 4, not the start of season one. None of the partners are impressed with his gambit. Pete, who once looked up at Don from the foot of Mt. Olympus, lays into him. Bert Cooper calls him a monster before storming out with wingtips in hand. Midge exploits old affection to squeeze $120 out of him, all proceeds going to her heroin addiction. Things have certainly changed. With season 4 ending next week, and this episode’s assonance with that very first episode, I wonder: have they changed too much?

It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s-

Just as you’ve got accounts and creative at Sterling Cooper, there’s a money/creative team behind the scenes of every TV show, Mad Men included. And accounts must love Christina Hendricks, who plays Joan Holloway. There’s obvious marketing value in having someone like her on a show otherwise filled with a lot of guys with parts and dark suits. Joan makes a major impression, a red-headed bombshell trussed up in sheath dresses, with a physique that frankly seems impractical but is absolutely striking. Ask someone who’s only barely aware of Mad Men what they know about it: “Is that the one with the redhead?”

Creatively, Joan’s function is less clear. She was, early on, something of a mascot, someone to stick front and center in all the marketing material. Battlestar Galactica did the same thing with Tricia Helfer. (Another show that knew the value of a woman in a red dress.) But as BSG continued, Helfer went from mascot to a major player. Same with Holloway, who was initially “intended only to be a guest role,” according to this interview. “Hendricks’ on-screen magnetism, however, soon changed that.” But what kind of role does she have now? Is she a lead?

Mad Men Recap, The Beautiful Girls

After last week’s episode, in which Don soul-searched about the man he wanted to be, and two blitzed stags threw haymakers, “The Beautiful Girls” thankfully lowered the testosterone levels. Disregarding the conference room red herring about men wanting to be good with their hands, the episode was as advertised: a look at the beautiful and vibrant women who serve in the Don Draper WAC.

Mad Men Recap, The Summer Man

After a drunken fight with Duck; after puking on himself; after taking Anna’s death right on the chin: Don has hit rock bottom, or near enough. But he’s working on himself. He is swimming laps and regulating his drinking. He goes on two successful dates. After last week’s dramatic episode, Weiner smartly brakes so we can watch Don’s incremental revival. The modesty of his goal – achieving a modicum of control over how he feels – marks a sea change in this self-unaware environment.

Mental well-being is low-priority for these characters. Much of the show’s drama comes from their lousy coping mechanisms; they repress and displace their dark feelings reflexively. (A good example this week is Joan twice snapping at Peggy.) But in “The Summer Man,” as Ms. Blankenship regains vision after cataract surgery, so do Peggy, Don, and Betty.¹

Downward, Don

Quirks that sit on the shelf for long enough become idiosyncrasies. Likable idiosyncrasies stay charming. But some go bad, and become mannerisms, or worse, affectations. These are what TV drinking games are born of. Breaking Bad’s outrageous trick camera angles – inside the toilet tank, fly’s eye perspective – started off as arresting and unique, and become rote portions of the style guide, a handy template for guest directors to work from. Mad Men, perpetually on the brink of affectation, needed a shake up for season four. Hence, Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, a pared down roster, 1964. Yet it’s still a show that loves to get dressed up and throw a party, and of course the outro tune was “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.” A new set and new characters doesn’t address the percolating complacency in the show’s aesthetic compass. Last season the show played around with tone and genre. Before that, geographic departures lead to the show’s high watermark: Don’s sojourn in LA. This season the show’s new direction is down, for Don Draper in particular.

Critical Consideration

I made it my business to annotate the hell out of Mrs. Dalloway. I filled margins with scrawled equations  and cross-referenced cfs. And as I was annotating, every note was further confirmation: this book is excellent. I am enjoying this book. But was I actually? Or was I just enjoying the idea of it, the game of fabricating enjoyment through clever annotations? And does it make a difference?

The subjectivity of art means all criticism is built atop a bog. Nothing can be said with certainty, and Newton’s third law applies to criticism: for every rave, there is an equal and opposite rant (usually written by Armond White). What compromises these discussions even further is that we aren’t even sold on our own position. Before I take my particular idea to market, I have to moderate a murky debate with myself. Aesthetic response, the most natural thing in the world according to one school of thought, turns out to be just as knotted as artistic creation.

Mad Men Recap, “The Gypsy and the Hobo”

HEADSHOT. AGAIN.

Mad Men turned in another solid episode on Sunday, but it’s clear the show is struggling with Season Three Syndrome.

Mad Men Recap, “The Color Blue”

Whenever you’re a writer outlining a long piece of fiction, you have certain moments you keep in your hip pocket, beats you know will occur in the storyline and propel it forward. It’s a relief to have those at your disposal, especially if the tempo is beginning to stagnate and you need to jolt it back to speed. Betty’s opening Don’s drawer was one of those moments, the kind Weiner laid groundwork for in Season 1.