Mad Men — Season 4, Episode 7: “The Suitcase”

Television is rarely transcendent.  It can be powerful, hilarious, moving, groan-inducing, disgusting — but it rarely has the depth of character/story/emotion plus the execution required to become a truly transcendent piece of media, one that rises above the crop and stays with you forever.  This week’s episode of Mad Men, was not only transcendent, but may very well have been the best episode of television I’ve ever watched.  I know I throw a lot of “best evers” around on this site (here’s a recent one), but never before in history have I watched an episode of tv and been so moved and stunned and impressed that I immediately rewound it and watched the entire episode over again.  That’s what I did last night — back to back viewings of “The Suitcase.”  I cannot wait to watch it again.  Might as well bust out the 2011 Emmy now, because this episode was flawless.  FLAWLESS.

What creator/writer Matthew Weiner does amazing well (aside from, you know, creating Mad Men and just generally being a genius), is subtext and metaphor.  In general on this series, but especially with Weiner written episodes (such as the iconic season 1 finale “The Wheel”), the advertising item in question, in this case a Samsonite suitcase, is the metaphorical crux of the episode.  This episode was all about the suitcase — about the baggage we carry with us,  how hard we try to keep that baggage locked up, and how eventually, the dirty laundry inside is bound to come spilling out once that tough exterior is cracked.

This episode, after three seasons focused primarily on family life, got us back to the heart of this series: Don + Peggy.  That’s what Mad Men is — if you quietly exited every other character (as they so gracefully did in this episode), stripped away the more trivial stuff and just got to the heart of this show, you’d find the private, tortured Don and his mirror — his protege, the equally ambitious and equally lonely Peggy.  In season one, Don saw Peggy at her absolute lowest, and was there for her.  No judgment, no gratitude expected — just there for her.  In “The Suitcase,” Peggy returns the favor — she sees Don on his knees, bowing to the porcelain god; weeping helplessly at his desk; passed out on her lap.  Peggy has now gone where no man or woman has ever truly gone before, not even Anna Draper or Don’s ex-wife Betty — into the heart and soul of the man.

And god, did it feel good!  These two have been quietly crying out for each other for years, two lone souls who have finally cemented their deep connection that each so desperately craved and needed.  It took some screaming, some crying, some drunken fist fighting, some laughing — in one night, these two go through the full range of emotions and truly bare their souls to one another, in a way that forever links them in a close, indelible bond.  As human beings, we all constantly search for this kind of connection — someone who will hold our hair after too many drinks and elevator rides, someone who will quietly rub our back in times of despair, someone who will tell us how they truly feel about us.  And finally, Peggy and Don have that in each other.

There was more beautiful metaphor and subtext — Peggy taking Don into the Men’s room instead of the Woman’s, a metaphor for the completion of Peggy’s journey into the inner circles of this man’s world of advertising — for it’s this night, May 25, 1965, that Peggy finally owns up completely to who she is — a career-driven woman who’d rather spend her birthday at the office with the boss she so desperately hopes to impress and learn from and connect with, than with her boyfriend and family.  There was Don telling Peggy to leave his door open at the end of the episode, a metaphor for the new chapter in their blossoming friendship, one of openness and truly honest communication.  There was more obvious suitcase metaphor as well — Don’s uncle telling him that a suitcase means being ready to leave at any moment, and then seeing the ghost of Anna Draper with her suitcase in hand, packed and ready for her new journey to “a better place.”  And then there was the backdrop of the whole episode — the iconic Cassius Clay vs. Sonny Liston fight — in which the smart-talking upstart knocks out the slow moving more experienced old-timer, a situation that effectively mirrors both Peggy’s current rise, as well as Don’s position in the advertising world.  Just layer after layer of metaphor — find me another tv show that does that!  I dare you!

For the rest of the subtext, you need to look at the faces of Elisabeth Moss and Jon Hamm, who turned in absolutely astounding performances.  I’ve always been a fan of both, but after “The Suitcase,” I couldn’t have more respect and adoration for them as actors, especially Moss.  Good lord, can this woman act.  Moss’s nuanced performance was as beautiful and difficult a piece of acting as I’ve ever seen on the small screen.  So many complex thoughts and emotions crossed her face during the course of that episode — anger, despair, worry, compassion, satisfaction, curiosity, indignation, petulance, remorse, on and on and on — and she nailed each and every turn with the ease and grace of Picasso drawing a line.  Jon Hamm was equally wonderful, though he had a bit less ground to cover than Peggy, seeing as he was pretty much bottoming out the whole episode.  Matthew Weiner’s dialogue was perfect to the letter, but what I loved most about this episode, and what I’m sure was carefully scripted as well, was all that was communicated simply by looks: Peggy and Don’s tear-inducing hand hold, Peggy’s shimmering look as she decides whether to follow Duck or Don, the look of concern in Peggy’s face as she asks Don about his phone call, the look on Don’s face as he notices Peggy watching him cry, the look of satisfaction on Peggy’s face when she wakes up form what turned out to be a pretty great birthday after all — again, I could go on and on.   Bottom line: You will not see this level of brilliance and execution anywhere else.  You will not see such fine writing, such fine directing and such fine acting, both in leads and in support (great work from the ensemble in this one, especially Roger and Duck) intersect in such a sophisticated and perfectly executed way.  As far as I’m concerned, any episode without Don/Peggy at this point will be a disappointment for me because the two of them together is such precious gold.

As characters, I love them both so much more now after this episode.  We can all relate to their pain — Peggy, wanting to get out from under the thumb of her family, wanting to make a name for herself, wanting recognition for her work, wanting someone to know her and love her for her, wanting her mentor’s approval — and Don, wanting someone to connect to, someone to share his true self with, someone he can trust and respect, someone to care about him.  I guess that’s what it really comes down to — we all want someone to love us as we truly are at our deepest, darkest, most despondent moments.  We all want someone to connect with– whether its over a birthday dinner, a shared passion, a drink– someone we can be refreshingly honest with, both about ourselves and about that person.  Peggy and Don have that now, after struggling alone in the dark without each other for so long, and because of Matt Weiner and Elisabeth Moss and Jon Hamm and director Jennifer Getzinger, we all got to share a little piece of that beautiful connection.  For letting me be a part those honest and wonderful moments, I will forever be grateful to Mad Men, which with “The Suitcase,” cemented itself in my mind as truly the greatest show on tv.