Lost in the Movies: May 2021

Mad Men - "Chinese Wall" (season 4, episode 11)


Welcome to my viewing diary for Mad Men. Every Monday I will review another episode of seasons four, five, and six. The last season will be covered in the summer of 2022 (now updated to winter 2021-22). I have never seen this series before so there will be NO spoilers.

Story (aired on October 3, 2010/written by Erin Levy; directed by Phil Abraham): Cue the Crisis of '65: Lee Garner couldn't keep a secret and the news of Lucky Strike's big move has hit the street, potentially dooming the agency for whom the famed cigarette was the predominant client. Ken Cosgrove of all people hears about it first, from a competitor while out to dinner with his soon-to-be in-laws. (His fiancee's parents are played, incidentally, by Dale Waddington and Ray Wise, following up last week's Mr. Reindeer with the one-two Lynchian guest punch of Leland Palmer; I didn't recognize her while watching, but the fiancee herself is played by Larisa Oleynik - whom older millennials will remember as Nickelodeon's own Alex Mack...speaking of secrets.) After just a moment's deliberation, Ken abandons the shocked family to make an emergency phone call to summon the whole SCDP crew. This is the first of many such occasions in an episode that pointedly privileges the demands of work - specifically of ensuring a stable income in the volatile world of advertising - over the warmth of family and personal relationships. The trade-off is exhibited at its most bluntly satirical during the funeral of industry stalwart David Montgomery, which the hungry gang prowls looking for potentially homeless clients, while tiresome co-workers amuse themselves with pointless anecdotes at the podium, pausing every now and then to assure the dead man's unconvinced wife and daughter that they were, of course, the most important things in his life. The most brutal exhibition, however, is saved for the episode's ending when Faye brings Don, expecting a breakup, a meeting with a client from one of her other jobs instead. This blatantly violates the "Chinese wall" of the title, an information barrier/ethical code intended to avoid conflicts of interest. But Faye has deep feelings for Don which she tries to express in transactional terms, the only terms he appreciates (or so she fears, even if she accepts it). How unfortunate for both of them that he has just returned from an impromptu hook-up with the adoring, apparently innocent - but perhaps more sly - Megan in his office. Despite Megan's assurances that she won't take the incident too seriously, we sense this can't end well...at least not for Faye.

Roger, meanwhile, does his...well, not really his best, something more lukewarm than that, to avoid responsibility for losing Lee. He also tries to fall into Joan's arms before she gently rejects him, returning home to the wife who no longer interests him and a box full of his just-published memoirs, whose slim form makes them look as insubstantial as he feels. Pete is distracted by and from the birth of his daughter, hemmed in even at the hospital by the potential end of what Tom condescendingly dubs his "folly" (the obnoxious Ted, a thorn in Don's side several episodes ago, even shows up trying to recruit the father-to-be). And the creative team soldiers on amidst the tumult; these kids have really emerged as solid comic relief in season four (Danny in particular fills a clownish role throughout the otherwise more sophisticated episode, based on his diminutive height and square affectations). Stan - who tries to make the moves on Peggy only to be asked "Why do you keep making me reject you?" - decides not to tell her she has lipstick on her teeth before an important pitch meeting and, fortunately for him, she's as bemused as she is embarrassed. Peggy too has mostly been relegated to a light side character this season (with "The Suitcase" a very noteworthy exception); in "Chinese Wall" she is largely preoccupied by her finally blooming romance with Abe. As the men of the office race around to save the business, she's meant to hold down the fort, writing hot and heavy copy to channel her newfound amour. The season has found plenty of compelling material for female characters both classic (Joan) and brand new (Faye), as well as once minor characters slowly elevated to central status (Sally is even promoted to the opening title sequence). Nonetheless, both of its two longtime standard bearers, Peggy and Betty (who isn't present here), feel like they've been ever so slightly demoted.

My Response:

Citizen Kane at 80 (video): Returning to Mirrors of Kane series w/ "Thatcher" chapter



Five years ago, I kicked off a brand new video series to honor Citizen Kane's seventy-fifth anniversary. However, the first video hit during a lull on my site and a busy time in my offline life and I let the project die...or rather, go to sleep. I'm not fully resurrecting it yet - that will wait until I'm much further along on my new "Path back to Journey Through Twin Peaks" schedule - but I wanted to do something for the film's eightieth anniversary this month (how time flies!) so here we are. It helps that the chapter next in line turned out to be much simpler than the first, an introduction which incorporated many different approaches and pieces of media. Chapter 2 focuses on the film's first "narrator," Walter P. Thatcher, Kane's guardian and constant foil. Thatcher's sequence is unique in several ways, encompassing Kane's entire life rather than a single period, conveyed through a written memoir rather than a direct interview with the reporter character, and keeping Kane at more of a distance than the later flashbacks. The challenges here are different from that expansive intro, as I illustrate or visually expand upon various concepts using limited footage from the relatively brief Thatcher material. I also dip into the documentary The Battle Over Citizen Kane in order to discuss the differences between William Randolph Hearst and Charles Foster Kane (and the similarities between Kane and Orson Welles).

The chapter is also available on Vimeo:


And if you want to watch the whole series thus far, including the trailer, check out my YouTube playlist.

Mad Men - "Hands and Knees" (season 4, episode 10)


Welcome to my viewing diary for Mad Men. Every Monday I will review another episode of seasons four, five, and six. The last season will be covered in the summer of 2022 (now updated to winter 2021-22). I have never seen this series before so there will be NO spoilers.

Story (aired on September 26, 2010/written by Jonathan Abrahams and Matthew Weiner; directed by Michael Uppendahl): In a single meeting we can glimpse the fortunes of SCDP buckle and groan, ready to collapse. Almost none of the participants realize this, however, with the partial exception of Roger, which makes sense since he is the one holding the most damning cards. In a casual lunch with Lee Garner, Jr., the tobacco tycoon casually drops a bomb. After thirty years, their business relationship is now ending - just like that. His father has passed away and the board wants to consolidate all of their interests. Roger begs Lee to give him thirty days before finalizing the severance, although it's clearly irreversible; hopefully he can line up replacement clients in that narrow interim. When Joan asks how Lucky Strike is doing at the company meeting, Roger only offers a silent thumb's up. Given the stress, is another heart attack on his horizon? Don undergoes his own health crisis with Faye in his apartment, although she assures him it isn't to do with his heart (the incident remains undiagnosed, but we suspect some kind of anxiety attack). And no wonder: Pete's recent deal with defense contractor North American Aviation triggers a standard security clearance investigation by the federal government and Don, without thinking, signs the release form that Meg puts in front of him. We know what that means: Dick Whitman could be outed as a fraud and deserter, his career and entire life destroyed by prison, at best, or having to flee and invent a third identity from scratch, at worst.

Don convinces Pete, one of the few who knows his secret, to cancel a contract three years in the making in order to stop the Pentagon's investigation. Roger castigates Pete when the "screw-up" is revealed at that meeting (knowing how much further this damns their business given the looming Lucky Strike disaster), while Don conspicuously defends him. However, it is the third threat to the company which is perhaps the most subtle, as Lane promptly announces he will return to England for several weeks without much explanation. Only we have observed him spend the entire episode goading on his seemingly amiable if aloof father Robert (Morgan Sheppard) who has been dispatched from London to bring him back, climaxing in the reveal of Lane's girlfriend Toni Charles (Naturi Naughton), a bunny at the Playboy Club and, as Lane's smirk seems to revel in, an African-American. Robert responds by thwacking Lane on the head with his cane, insisting he choose on which side of the Atlantic he's going to "set his house in order" and does not remove his foot from his suddenly meek middle-aged son's hand until the powerful executive mumbles, "Yes, sir." Finally, as if these unfolding crises weren't dramatic enough, Joan discovers she's pregnant - obviously due to her robbery-fueled streetside liaison with Roger - and treks off by herself to "avert a tragedy" after Roger is informed and pays for the abortion (he makes it clear he would not provide for an illegitimate child). Sitting opposite a weeping young mother who assumes that Joan too is there on behalf of an unseen daughter, Joan plays along, replying "Fifteen" to "How old is yours?" On the bus ride back, she keeps her subsequent reflections to herself.

My Response:

Holy Motors (LOST IN THE MOVIES podcast #22)



I am frequently fascinated by films which exist not only as a sustained piece of storytelling but also, at times, an anthology of vignettes. Holy Motors fits the latter description more than the former, with its..."story"?...of a man traveling through a series of immersive performances. He's not quite an actor in the conventional sense (there is no in-world stage or camera, or audience for that matter, and some of his actions - including violent outbursts - are presented as if they are happening in "reality"). Yet this is certainly, among other things, a film about acting. It can also be seen as a meditation on changes in cinema and a reflection of the twenty-first century gig economy, subjects I tease out more in this podcast. Not having seen any other Leos Carax films, I had nothing in his filmography to compare this to but if you are familiar with his work, please share your own thoughts on Holy Motors - I'd love to read them in upcoming feedback.

Incidentally, this was the last work I completed before officially beginning my new 2021-22 "Path through JOURNEY THROUGH TWIN PEAKS" schedule two days ago. You can read and/or watch more about that in the links below...


Subscribe, rate, and review on Apple Podcasts
You can also listen on Pinecast and Spotify
(and most places podcasts are found)

Mad Men - "The Beautiful Girls" (season 4, episode 9)


Welcome to my viewing diary for Mad Men. Every Monday I will review another episode of seasons four, five, and six. The last season will be covered in the summer of 2022 (now updated to winter 2021-22). I have never seen this series before so there will be NO spoilers.

Story (aired on September 19, 2010/written by Dahvi Waller and Matthew Weiner; directed by Michael Uppendahl): The three women who board an elevator at the end of two long, disorienting days at the office aren't quite sure who they're more frustrated with and disappointed in: the men in their lives, or themselves. Peggy finally reunites with Abe, the journalist she hooked up with at that bohemian loft party. Their meet-cute goes south, literally, when Abe brings up the civil rights movement and a defensive Peggy deflects from her agency's campaign for a racist auto parts company. When he scoffs at her notion that women are persecuted as well, citing her own professional woes as an example, she abandons their impromptu date; showing up later at her office with a poem titled "Nuremberg on Madison Avenue" does not help his case. Still, her conversation with their mutual friend Joyce reveals an ambivalence on Peggy's part - regarding both Abe and her own place (in this company, and more broadly). Her easily thwarted attempt to broach the concept of black characters for the Fillmore campaign suggests he may have a point.

With Joan's husband Greg heading straight to Vietnam after boot camp, the shameless Roger pursues his old flame - just a few episodes after pontificating about why his duty to fellow service members compelled him to insult Japanese clients. After a gift massage, persistent requests, and the trauma of an office death (more on that in a moment), Joan agrees to a purely platonic dinner ostensibly to assuage her loneliness. Perhaps that's all the comfort she would have sought if the two weren't mugged immediately afterwards; Roger's comforting caresses after the mugger flees quickly turn into something more - with Joan's active encouragement. But she hopes this re-ignition will remain a quick fling rather than a full-on affair. Meanwhile, the last of the trio, Dr. Faye, has - on the surface - the least reason to be upset with a lover. She and Don feel, and indulge, both a deep sexual attraction and emotional connection. The latter is strong enough for Don to trust her to keep an eye on Sally when the little girl flees the suburbs and catches a subway into the city to visit her father. Unfortunately, Faye's interactions with Sally are forced and awkward; she eventually confesses that she's chosen not to have children for the sake of her career and blames this for her lack of rapport with kids. It's a sacrifice she's never felt more acutely than in this moment.

As Betty finally arrives to pick Sally up (the next day!) - the once vaguely childish housewife now glimpsed as a cold, forbidding authority figure through and through - the young Draper races down the hallway in a rage, falls on her face, and breaks down in sobs. It is not Faye but Don's new secretary, the sensitive, shellshocked Megan Calvet (Jessica Paré), who comforts her. And yes, he has a new secretary for a reason. Miss Blankenship died suddenly the very day, indeed the very hour, that Sally arrived: frozen in her seat with her sunglasses on (she was recovering from an eye operation), this Sterling Cooper veteran's demise spreads the black cloud of looming mortality through the bright white office, which the snarky young kids laugh off while both Roger and Bert brood over her obituary. Adding insult to injury, the other secretaries must throw a blanket over her corpse, wheeling her away as quietly as possible so as not to disrupt the Fillmore meeting unfolding on the other side of a glass partition. The clients' backs are, fortunately, against that glass, continuing their indifferent ignorance of Miss Blankenship in death as well as in life. Although they already have plenty of their own reasons, with the full lifespan of ignominious female defeat on display it's no wonder Peggy, Joan, and Faye look so weary when the elevator doors close.

My Response:

Mad Men - "The Summer Man" (season 4, episode 8)


Welcome to my viewing diary for Mad Men. Every Monday I will review another episode of seasons four, five, and six. The last season will be covered in the summer of 2022 (now updated to winter 2021-22). I have never seen this series before so there will be NO spoilers.

Story (aired on September 12, 2010/written by Lisa Albert, Janet Leahy, and Matthew Weiner; directed by Phil Abraham): "Don't you want to be close to anyone?" Bethany asks Don on their fifth or sixth date in as many months. The answer, for Don and many others in an episode defined by distance and proximity, is complicated. "The Summer Man" is all about where to define limits in a confusing time on both a personal and societal level. The soon-to-be-fired Joey's cocky demeanor, as he insults the scolding Joan to her face, stems in part from a confidence in his relationship to Peggy - she's "one of the guys" who can be trusted to appreciate their lockerroom humor but also "just a girl" who'd never have the balls to discipline him (until she does) for what we'd nowadays call blatant sexual harassment. Betty and Henry struggle with the stranglehold Don continues to hold over them as they silently stew in his former house and run into him on that aforementioned date with Bethany (Henry is being courted as a potential advisor for Mayor John Lindsay's eventual presidential campaign, but Betty's mind is elsewhere - across the restaurant - which pisses Henry off). They even pointedly refuse to invite Don to his own son's second birthday, a boundary no less wounding for being implicit.

And Don faces border crises all over the place. Bethany goes down on him in the back of a cab, transgressing her own initial limits, while Don himself - to a different date's surprise, and perhaps even his own - tells Faye he will only take her to the door of her apartment building despite their clear mutual desire. (She's already cast aside her own hard boundary by dating him at all.) When Don holds little Gene aloft and the boy refuses to return his absent father's gaze, Betty tells her new husband it's okay that the unexpected guest showed up for the birthday. "We've got everything," she tells him, echoing a doubtful refrain voiced by her and those around her all episode; Don, it stands to reason, has nothing. But of course the boundary between everything and nothing is as porous as any other. The main mad man's inner turmoil is conveyed throughout by jarring voiceover as he keeps a diary, a sometimes on-the-nose device whose obviousness serves a meta purpose: both the show and the character are attempting to figure themselves out after losing their defining traits. Even more on-the-nose, of course, is the early use of "(I Can't Go No) Satisfaction," such an obvious needle drop - it not only defines '65 but is about advertising, for God's sake - that the filmmakers have no choice but to go over the top with it, showing Don pull a pack from his shirt pocket just as Mick croons, "can't be a man 'cause he doesn't smoke the same cigarettes as me." The moment serves not only to capture the flavor of the moment but to suggest Don is finding himself increasingly removed from it, fading from cultural relevancy. At one point Don's self-conscious narration informs us, "We're flawed because we want so much more. We're ruined because we get these things and wish for what we had." Of course, Don is only about thirty-eight or thirty-nine right now, not that this is necessarily a hopeful counterpoint. He still has plenty of ruin left in him.

My Response:


I am now keeping track of my progress on various projects here.

This schedule has been cancelled. I will not be attempting an approach this ambitious again. In order to reach Journey Through Twin Peaks in a reasonable manner, I am only focusing on a handful of high-priority projects that were already begun, plus monthly commitments like Patreon rewards and minimal public podcasts.

The rest of this post remains as a record of what I hoped to accomplish in 2021 - 22.


CURRENT STATUS was Step 16 - while advancing/mixing many steps now - of 56
(21 full or partial steps before resuming work on Journey Through Twin Peaks)

as of October 28WORKING ON...

 1 day ahead of schedule: closest deadline is October 28
(for Lost in Twin Peaks #4F - "S1E4 in the Weeds" public podcast in step 19)
Other deadlines are pushed aside as I prioritize a few projects 

+ this week: I've fallen behind on various weekly/monthly interruptions like covering new releases for my podcast or covering Olympics documentaries
(see bottom of this post for more details on interruptions)


INTRODUCTION

Over the years, I've created different "Path" schedules for ongoing projects including the Journey Through Twin Peaks video series (which you can view on YouTube and Vimeo). I've had varying degrees of success, often depending on an early head start. In this case I tried to frontload time-sensitive material. This page will be continually updated both up top and down below (in red font), to track my progress toward "Part 6" of Journey Through Twin Peaks (which will cover various themes and locations in the third season) - as well as several major endeavors along the way: monthly patron podcasts, more frequent public podcasts, video essays on Citizen Kane, a few final seasons of my Mad Men viewing diary, and a long-delayed update and conclusion for my written Twin Peaks character series begun in 2017.

You can also follow my progress on Twitter threads (I'm currently in this one) which will be active and linked here around the evening of May 7. This video discusses the completion of Journey Part 5, plans for Part 6, how I will tackle my backlog behind the scenes, and what will be published during that time:


My goal is to begin premiering new Journey Through Twin Peaks videos, once all of them have already been completed, around the fifth anniversary of season three's debut or, perhaps, finale (when my podcast coverage of the season concludes). I'd say "See you in 2022" but of course, as this schedule shows, I'll have plenty to share before then. Thanks for your support and appreciation, and I hope you enjoy the ride as well as the destination.

This schedule began on May 18, 2021...

THE STEPS ON THE PATH

Films by Twin Peaks episode directors - The Wizard, Frances, Pay the Ghost, Heaven (TWIN PEAKS CINEMA podcast #4/LOST IN THE MOVIES podcast #21)



As a follow-up to my first "Twin Peaks Cinema" podcast, exploring four films by directors of Twin Peaks episode (I also discussed co-creator Mark Frost's Storyville and director Tim Hunter's River's Edge in standalone podcasts) I am gathering another four such titles. This time all the filmmakers debuted on Twin Peaks during its second season and they provide a wide range of genres and approaches. Todd Holland's The Wizard (1989) is a Nintendo advertisement disguised as a family film (or maybe vice versa) with a wacky, bombastic flair akin to his own Twin Peaks episodes 11 and 20; Graeme Clifford's moving Frances (1982) tells the story of troubled Hollywood star Frances Farmer in a fashion that anticipates both the tragedy of Laura Palmer and some of the climactic moments in his episode 12; Uli Edel's horror film Pay the Ghost (2015) uses similar horror/thriller techniques he utilized when Leo woke up in episode 21; and Diane Keaton's Heaven (1987 - not 1986 as I kept saying for some reason) is unmistakably in the same style she employed in her off-the-wall episode 22.


Subscribe, rate, and review on Apple Podcasts
You can also listen on Pinecast and Spotify


ADDITIONAL LINKS FOR EPISODE 21

Journey Through Twin Peaks - Chapter 34 (seasons 1 & 2 collaborators): A Candle in Every Window (my video essay with clips from all of these films in juxtaposition to the directors' Twin Peaks episodes)


MY RECENT WORK

New on the site


New on Patreon
(for $1/month)
 






Mad Men - "The Suitcase" (season 4, episode 7)


Welcome to my viewing diary for Mad Men. Every Monday I will review another episode of seasons four, five, and six. The last season will be covered in the summer of 2022 (now updated to winter 2021-22). I have never seen this series before so there will be NO spoilers.

Story (aired on September 5, 2010/written by Matthew Weiner; directed by Jennifer Getzinger): The big 1965 match-up between Muhammad Ali and Sonny Liston inspires the entire office to gamble and booze (not that they need any particular excuse, as this episode endlessly reminds us). Ali, a year past taking his Muslim name, is still universally referred to by the admen as Cassius Clay with condescending contempt; the heavyweight champion of the world remains an upstart in their eyes, his previous victory a fluke to be rectified later that night for paying, ticket-holding audiences at closed-circuit TV venues. However, with a Samsonite meeting scheduled soon, Don insists that Peggy stay at the office and brainstorm with him while everyone else migrates to their parties. Peggy is skipping out on a surprise family birthday dinner organized by the furious Mark, who breaks up with her over the phone (with her equally frustrated family's sympathy). Don is avoiding not just a lame gathering with dry drunk Freddy and an increasingly desperate Roger (whose self-aggrandizing, gossipy taped memoirs Don and Peggy stumble upon and bond over after Don has made Peggy cry by ferociously berating her). He's also putting off a dreaded call to Stephanie in California where he is certain Anna has passed away from cancer, or soon will. Peggy's and Don's mutually assured distraction draws them closer and eventually drives them from the office; opting for the free radio broadcast rather than a ticketed event, a drunken Don and dumped Peggy flirt over drinks at a dissolute bar, listening in shock as Liston falls in just ninety seconds.

Likewise, without being gracelessly on-the-nose about it, "The Suitcase" reveals the typically stern but unusually bullying Don as a pathetic shell of the old authoritative Mr. Draper, an abusive but deeply insecure boss while the sensitive, assertive Peggy will tenaciously hang on and outlast him in terms of composure, commitment, and eventually even literal consciousness. The duo's night together is equal parts "dodge, weave, and parry" match-up and classic Beauty and the Beast redemption tale. If Don is brought low, it's still implicitly incumbent upon Peggy to take care of him all night, a responsibility rewarded with emotional (but not sexual) intimacy rather than material compensation. Peggy can't find her place with the women; Pete's wife cheerfully condescends to her in a way that makes her uncomfortable (though not as uncomfortable as Pete will be seeing the two women side by side, one very pregnant with his child, the other having given his child away years ago). Nor can she be "one of the guys," let alone the star of her own show. As for Don, he spills a few of his biographical secrets to Peggy, who shares that she too saw her father die as a child. Don then pukes in the toilet (and on his own shirt) allowing reliable escort Peggy a rare, wryly executed glimpse into the men's room. And finally he loses a late-night scuffle to the way-off-the-wagon Duck who shows up at SCDP to defecate on Don's couch - an act he accidentally almost performs in Roger's office instead - and whimper that Peggy is a "whore" for betraying him with Don (or so he assumes, like everyone else it seems).

Duck even pulls rank, boasting that he had numerous kills on Okinawa while Don has recently acknowledged to Peggy that he never shot anyone in Korea. If you were to ask someone who'd never seen an episode of Mad Men to summon up an image of it, they very well might imagine this scene of two hammered middle-aged men tackling one another on the floor of a chic sixties New York advertising agency. Duck's abject descent is depicted as nearly a slapstick affair throughout the episode; earlier in the evening he calls Peggy just as she receives his gift of a business card with her name listed as creative director next to his. She's initially flattered, especially after yet another patronizing putdown from Don, but Duck unravels instantly. If his sloppy speech, glass clinking into frame, and the hotel environs revealed by a wider camera angle don't make his circumstances clear, his increasingly desperate excuses - "I was inspired by Don," "it was mutual" - indicate that he's recently been fired and has no clients to speak of. The whole thing is a pipe dream. But if Duck's delusions are more obvious, Don's may be more perniciously (self-)destructive.

As Anna Draper's physical form collapses across the country, what's left of "Don Draper's" facade crumbles into dust, leaving just the old Dick Whitman behind. (There's some irony in the fact that Don, one of the most eager to mock Ali, also refuses to live under the name he was born with - perhaps for the opposite reason, running toward conformity and away from his roots.) It's Dick whom Peggy spends the night personally acquainting herself with; at the same time, paradoxically, she reaffirms her deep professional connection to Don, the man who helped build her career while always keeping her at arm's length. At dawn he finally calls the west coast, gets his expected news, and breaks into sobs just in time to be caught by an awakened Peggy (who cradled him in her lap as they snoozed the night away on the couch). This feels like a cathartic moment for both characters but of course, this show has always been awash in false (or rather, stalled) starts, detours, and moments of truth that fade with the demands of another day. Whether Ali captured in a legendary front-page photo seen around the world, the Samsonite depicted looming over its competitor in a similar boxing ring sketched by Don the next morning, or Don himself clinging to this half-baked concept (and, more tangibly if fleetingly, to Peggy's hand at his desk) as a form of survival if not salvation, "the champ" might as well enjoy victory while it appears as if it's going to last - on series television, as in life, nothing does.

My Response:

Search This Blog