
Campbell brings in a client/friend/fellow sniveler named Horace, whose mission in life is to replace baseball with Jai Alai as America's favorite past time, and to spend his entire inheritance in the process. Putnam Powell and & Lowe watchdog Pryce can't wait for the moneys to start rolling in, but Don is hesitant as the kid's father happens to be one of Bert Cooper's besties and he doesn't want to just cash in and ruin the relationship. So Cooper, Pryce and Don have a meeting with the Jai Alai dude's father, who basically says his son is an idiot, but what can he do? Hopefully he will go broke with this ridiculous plan and then become a useful member of society. After getting the go-ahead, Campbell and Don take Horace to lunch where he says if this sport fails he will blame Sterling Cooper for everything. Oh boy. Also, I'm not totally sure what Jai Alai is, but the whole time I kept picturing Blernsball from Futurama. Best part of this subplot is when Horace sends over Jai Alai equipment, and Don—in a very un-Don Draper move—smashes Pryce's ant farm. (Ed. - Then says "Bill it to the kid, I guess," which is awesome.)
Meanwhile, Peggy has decided to move to Manhattan, much to the chagrin of her mother. She tacks up an ad looking for a roommate in the Sterling Cooper break room, only to be pranked by a Mad Boy's secretary with Kinsey, Crane, and Cosgrove laughing and coaching in the background. Curious how Cosgrove still jokes around with the rest of the Boys despite his hew position, while Campbell seems to have distanced himself from their chicanery. Peggy goes to mull over the failure of her ad when Joan comes in and proves once again she is the Best Lady Ever by rewriting the ad so that Peggy will actually attract potential roommates with it. Hey, remember how Peggy is supposed to be the copy writing wiz (despite her lady parts) and Joan is "just" a secretary? Watch your back, Olson.
However, one thing Peggy was right about was that stupid Patio ad campaign with the Ann Margaret look alike and Bye Bye Birdie rip off. The clients saw it and hated it. In addition to Peggy subtly gloating her way out of the meeting, the other bonus that comes from the debacle is that Sal has earned the title of Commercial Director after being tapped to direct this one. In a glimpse of Romano family home life, we see that despite her tiny nightie, Mrs R just can't seduce her hubby. And after seeing him reenact the opening scene from Bye Bye Birdie in their bedroom, seductive dance moves and all, Sal's wife finally realizes he's a big ol' homo.
In the last and most heartstring-pulling storyline of the night, Grandpa Gene knows he's not long for this world. He tries to go over his funeral arrangements and will with Betty, who shuts him down (thought not without looking satisfied that she will be inheriting the furs). He then breaks out his World War I memorabilia to pass on to Bobby, and finally, bonds with Sally. He lets Sally drive; he sneaks her ice cream; he tells her she's smart and can do anything. It is really quite lovely the way Sally has become his new little girl, and Grandpa Gene has become an adult in her life who seems to care about her emotional well being. So of course he has to die. And of course I have to bawl. It starts when Sally waits forlornly for Grandpa Gene in her ballet attire after school, picks up when a cop shows up at the house to deliver the bad news, and reaches a crescendo when Sally yells at the adults for making light jokes and not truly processing what Grandpa Gene's death really means. After some more awesome acting from Kiernan Shipka (who can't be more that what, nine?), the episode ends with a shot of Don closing up Gene's former cot right next to the crib for future Baby Draper. Tear.
Next week... I have no idea what is supposed to happen next week based on the previews. Sally gets in trouble at school? Don is secretive? It's the 60s and they're ad men? See you next week when I hopefully have it all sorted out.
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The scene in which children (Peggy and her sister, here) get their mother a television set so that she'll stop trying to have a life all the damn time is a pretty direct lift from Douglas Sirk's All That Heaven Allows (1955), right down to the faces of real people ironically reflected in the screen.
All That Heaven Allows -- a movie about affluent conformity stifling individual desire in the suburbs -- was remade by Todd Haynes with the benefit of five decades of hindsight; this seems germane to Mad Men, for obvious reasons, although unlike Haynes and his melodrama quotations Weiner and co. seem mostly committed to a more neutral quality-television aesthetic (he's done a great job of keeping the work of multiple directors consistent) -- the house style here seems less indebted to contemporaneous film than the than embittered but glossy-magazine prose of Cheever etc.
Sally driving the car was the single greatest opening ever. also, i need to get my hands on a copy of "The Rise And Fall of the Roman Empire."
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