Showing posts with label Mad Men. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mad Men. Show all posts

Monday, April 9, 2012

Oh my hormones.



Separated at birth, Part 576. . .



Contenders: the new Mad Man at Sterling-Cooper-Draper-Pryce, one very cute but pushy Bronxy Jewish guy named Michael Ginsberg, played by an unknown (to me) named Ben Feldman.

Ferris Bueller! Matthew Broderick when he was still young and dishy.

I'm going to mix these up. You decide.






Brothers? Cousins maybe? Who knows.

















OK, then, at least a stand-in. . .







They're both pretty dreamy. . .





. . . but only this guy is still young.




Bueller?. . . Bueller?. . . Bueller?. . .Bueller?. . .

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Donald Draper is a living doll!



One wonders, sometimes, how many degrees of separation exists between "something" and "something".

Or "something" and "anything".

My obsession with Mad Men is longstanding, but it's starting to wear thin as I realize I will have to wait TWO MORE MONTHS before Season 5 begins. And that wait offers no guarantee that the show won't finally jump the shark into mediocrity.
                                                                                            



   
Perhaps to fill the void, I've been sucked into another obsession: the wonderfully creepy Enchanted Dolls of Marina Bychkova, a local genius who seems to snatch these lovely waxen lilies right out of the subconscious.




But wait! It couldn't be. And yet, it IS.



                                                         
What are Mad Men figures doing in a Barbie collector's magazine, you might
ask?

What do you think, dumb-bell?




My beloved Mad Men characters have been turned into dolls.

Not just any dolls, but Barbies!




High-end Barbies , I would guess, with nice wardrobes and all, but still. Mattel must have seen a good marketing opportunity and grabbed it




But I must find the sweet sauce in the poisoned apple. Now I get to toy with Don Draper all day long! Never mind that his face and body look alarmingly like Ken's and are probably poured into an identical mould.

At last I can indulge my fantasy of taking his clothes off, even if his pants are only three inches long.





Already there's controversy over this (which will no doubt sell more dolls): is Mad Men selling out? What next, I wonder: nouveau Bryll Cream? Mad Men push-up brassieres with  pencil-sharp points at the front?

Who's going to buy these things? Not Moms for their little girls' birthdays, surely. Mad Men is full of sex and booze and smoking and all that other awful stuff that only happened in the '60s. Not good doll material at all.





But wait a minute. Mad Men is all about selling, commodification, "product". What could be more devastatingly tongue-in-cheek than making the show's characters into playthings, merchandise for sale?

Besides, Barbies have a shelf life of about six months, and a shorter life once the box is opened. They all seem to end up buried at the bottom of the closet, naked and with their hair in a frizzled mess.

That means you'll just have to go out and buy another one.

Bychkova's dolls, much more exquisitely-made, would never fall into that category.  Yes, they're bought and sold, sometimes for as much as $40,000.00: but only to serious collectors who will cherish the dolls forever.








On the other hand. . .

On the other hand, glittering like a glacier, we might find a high-end diamond-encrusted engagement ring by Victoria Buckley,  displayed by an elegantly-posing Marina Bychkova bride doll.

It seems that though Barbie lasts but a moment, an art doll (like a diamond?) is forever.




 

Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book
    It took me years to write, will you take a look


Friday, December 30, 2011

Mad Men gifs: I think it moved!







Geez I get mad about this. I finally gather up some truly foxy Don Draper/Jon Hamm gifs gleaned from the first four seasons of Mad Men, then find out only three of them will post here, most of them not too good.


Well, except for that first one.


Don Draper is what you'd call a good-smelling man. You know the type, you can just tell.


Harrison Ford: definitely a good-smelling man. Maybe just a touch too much cologne, but nice-smelling hair, he uses something good on it or else he just has nice-smelling hair. Just the right amount of body hair, too.


Cary Grant: Whatever men used then. He took care of himself, knew how to fill a tux.


Harold Lloyd: Of course! Lemon verbena, the rest just "him".





George Clooney: Need I say more?

Unfortunately, there are also the bad-smelling men.


Matthew McConaughey (or however you spell it): He just reeks, like a skunk. He has admitted he doesn't use deodorant and seems proud of it, though his co-stars have complained about him.


Brad Pitt: His name says it all.


Phillip Seymour Hoffman: He looks like he never washes his hair. Or other things.




Oh, enough of all that crap. *WHEN* is Season 5 of Mad Men going to start? IS it going to start? It was supposed to begin in July, for Christ's sake. JULY. That was, let me see, months ago. Then Matthew Weiner (who doesn't take pictures of his anatomy and Tweet them to his six girl friends, that's the other guy), the prima donna creator of the show, got in a major spat with the network, AMC. I think it was over commercials and having to cut a character (!?) in order to fit in more ads.


This is stupid! All they'd have to do is talk faster! And we can't afford any more leakage. They already cut Sal Romano, whose story line was finally starting to heat up after being on simmer for four years. Then he was unceremoniously dumped.

Enough about gays, I guess: the ones Don called "you people".




I was also getting very interested in pre-teen Sally, Don and Betty's daughter. She was born at the same time I was, and through her child's perception is experiencing the turbulence of the '60s (Cuban missile crisis, Kennedy assassination, Beatles on Ed Sullivan for the first time - on my tenth birthday, by the way).

She has come a long way from running around with a plastic dry cleaning bag over her head. At the end of Season 4 she was seeing a psychiatrist for masturbating at a sleepover while watching Ilya Kuryakin on The Man from U.N.C.L.E. (I was a Napoleon Solo girl, myself.)

They'd better not send her away to Switzerland to deal with the embarrassment.





The thing is. . . I have this awful, queasy feeling that the show is over. There has been nothing to promote Season 5 that I've seen, except a  marathon of the first four seasons which AMC is showing at 3:00 in the morning on Sundays.


That's when they show "remastered" Three Stooges episodes from the 1940s. If there is an inverse to prime time, this is it.                                                                        

It's better than nothing, however, so 'm recording and watching them all again. I'm watching them, even though this may be the 5th or 6th time I've seen them. This has never happened to me before. I just love this show, love everything about it because so far it hasn't been even a little bit predictable or boring.

But what if it never comes back? The whole thing is so mushy. The word on the internet - which we've never been able to depend on up to now - is that it'll be back in March. MARCH?? It was February a couple minutes ago, and before that, January. And September. And. . . How can things go backwards like this?




This show has a huge fan base (or had), but the public has a very short attention span, which means it's probably already haemorrhaging viewers. It'll be a hard job to pull those numbers back up again, and if they can't, it'll be sayonara for good. Matthew Weiner will have effectively committed television suicide.

I have the DVD sets of the first four seasons. I am ashamed to admit (oh all right, I'm not) that I bought the fourth season before it officially came out. Bought it cheap from a suspicious-looking video outfit that was promptly closed down, with a forbidding-looking Homeland Security announcement appearing where the home page used to be. It went on and on about theft and fines and jail terms. Let's hope they don't catch up with me. Honest, I thought this was just a sneak preview! Never mind that it's a direct transfer from TV, with the AMC logo in the corner.

It's not good to get so addicted. It has something to do with my generation, and Sally, and the sex, and the booze, and the smoking. And with Peggy Olson, who has evolved like crazy throughout the four seasons, from mousy junior secretary to unwitting expectant mother to guilt-ridden lapsed Catholic to chicly-dressed, full-fledged copywriter with a quasi-beatnik girl friend who reminds me of Amy Farrah Fowler on The Big Bang Theory (but that's another post).




Don is on the cusp of marrying a gorgeous young secretary, someone he barely knows, mainly because she is willing to overlook his shady past and accept him the way he is. Never is there any mention of what HE intends to bring to the relationship, simply because it doesn't occur to him. She meets his needs, or is supposed to. His needs are: sex; complete erasure of his past; sex. That's why she's there. And with his kids, she's (in his words) Maria von Trapp: or, more likely, Mary Poppins.

Oh, we all have to see how this works out! Don's "secret" life is all over the place now, completely worn out like Sal Romano's secret crush on metrosexual Ken Cosgrove. So that story line will have to be discarded, unless there's more "trouble" later over that ersatz purple heart. I think they've squeezed this lemon long enough.

I wonder sometimes if this whole thing is just a ploy to titillate fans, to make them wait and wait and wait, like Betty Draper waiting for an orgasm. But it won't work. No matter how good this show is, and I happen to think it's the best thing I've ever seen, waiting isn't the viewing public's strong suit.




                                          (Whoaaaaaawwwww. Excuse me.)


Mad Men has already spawned some washed-out imitators like Pan Am and The Playboy Club (which lasted two episodes: take that, Hugh, and get back in your wheelchair). I tried to watch Pan Am because of Christina Ricci, who was an absolute genius in the two Addams Family movies. But as a "stew", she's a bust. The woman in the first episode who runs away just as her wedding is starting is so-o-o-o lame, as she sits in her friend's revving car ("What'll you do?" "I know! I'll become a Pan Am stewardess!" No kidding, that's really what she says.)



Watered-down Weiner isn't working very well. We need the real thing. We need a man who somehow smells good in spite of excessive tobacco and alcohol, who actually looks good in those stupid hats they wore. We need that time machine, that ache from an old wound (as Don once defined "nostalgia": it was when he brilliantly named an ordinary slide projector the Kodac Carousel! How do they ever get permission to do these things?)

Take me back, Don. It was all a mistake, there was never any conflict. I don't care what you've done; I don't care how many women you've snorched. All is forgiven. I need you.



Monday, April 25, 2011

Mad About You




(Note the placement of Don's hands. Just a concidence? I don't think so!)

Withdrawal




'Mad Men' Season 5 set for 2012, negotiations with Matthew Weiner ongoing - From Inside the Box - Zap2it

I haven't even really written about Mad Men yet, and here I've already got the t shirt (from eBay, no kidding, it's great). I don't think I've ever been as involved with a show, any show, in my life. Maybe I hesitated to write about it because I'd have to give a lowdown on all the characters and all the situations, a messy tangle which approximates real life more accurately than anything else I've seen.

But I do have concerns. It seems Matthew Weiner, the genius behind the show, is stamping his foot at proposed budget cuts and time constraints. The network (AMC) and the production company (Lionsgate) want to cut 2 minutes out of each episode to allow for a few extra commercials (I'd say, maybe 5 or 6). Doesn't sound like much, does it? Until you realize that in 2 minutes, a character can die, another character can be born, the business can crash or be reformed (which it already has a few times) . . or even, with a sudden quirk of the eyebrow, Don Draper can make the whole Mad Men universe disappear.




Meantime, horror of horrors, AMC has delayed the debut of Season 5 (slated for summer) until March 2012. Gulp. Almost a year. Does Weiner approve of his masterwork being clawed back like that? Whose nose is being twisted here?

In case you haven't heard of this show (and for God's sake, where've you been for the past 4 years?), it's a slightly surreal take on Madison Avenue in the 1960s. MM takes a huge chance in covering a year per season, unlike MASH which dragged out the 2-year-long Korean War into 11 years (with 11 Christmases in a 2-year period! Those folks must've been mighty festive.) So we're already into, what, 1966? If the show is really successful, it'll spill over into the polyester-and-disco atmosphere of the '70s, which I frankly don't think will work. So they'd better squeeze this juicy material while they still have time.



Another option is making Mad Men movies, but like the Sex and the City franchise I think they'd just writhe and die, the quirky maverick spirit of the series totally bent out of shape by Fox or Warner Brothers or whoever inevitably takes over the whole thing. Sounds like Matthew Weiner will only surrender his show over his dead body: like Charlton Heston's rifle, they'll have to pry it out of his cold, dead hands.

But as I was saying before I digressed (it's Easter Monday, for God's sake, a weird sort of non-day, so don't expect me to make much sense), I'm beginning to see why Sterling-Cooper-Draper-Pryce's art director Sal Romano (played by Broadway actor Bryan Batt) was canned so abruptly in Season 3. It's not that his character wasn't working out. Sal's dismissal was a budget cut, nothing more or less. They couldn't afford him any more.




He was gay, yes; his story line was a bit bizarre, but he had the acting chops and was up for it. In fact, he was one of Mad Men's more subtle characters, hiding his forbidden gay urges under a cloak of suave Old World charm that inspired female crushes. I noticed he was also very high up in the opening credits, which has everything to do with agents and contracts and negotiations and status and (ultimately) paycheques. The budget for MM seems to be mysteriously dwindling (not enough product placement? Can we make the Mrs. Butterworth's bottle a little more prominent on the kitchen table?), so network execs are likely pondering whose head will roll in Season 5.

None of this makes any sense to me. Why is this happening? How could such a ravenously-popular, culture-transforming series be running out of money? Why hold it hostage? Is it to build up viewer hunger (which, with the average 3 1/2 -minute attention span, will probably backfire)? It just feels like they've kicked it into the next solar system. Even waiting for it to start at the normal time has been agony, for I think Don Draper/Jon Hamm is the best-smelling man on TV. (That's another post entirely).




MM has garnered a big basket of kisses already, but I'm beginning to think Emmys are kind of like Oscars: the kiss of death, not just for a career but for a whole series. (I'll never forget one of my favorite comic actors, Tony Randall, receiving his statuette after The Odd Couple's cancellation and saying with a rueful smile, "This is wonderful. Now if I only had a job.")

I want more Don Draper, I want his anguish and ennui and occasional joy. I want to see if his engagement to That French Girl (Megan, is it? She of the Leslie Caron teeth?), a bolt from the blue, will ever come off. There are some potential discards however: I want to see if that blithering old man who was in How to Succeed in Business in One Million BC (heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh, in-joke) will drop at his desk like poor old Miss Blankenship.




Betty, well, she's about as bland as that perforated Pillsbury crescent roll dough (half-baked). Could she fall off a horse or something? How about that creepy neighbor boy Glen (who turns out to be Matthew Weiner's creepy son: so, forget that one, he'll stay until he's voting age).




But there are others I can't do without, so if the network execs get their greasy little paws on them, I swear I'll walk. In particular I want to see Don's 10-year-old daughter Sally launched into the shark-infested waters of adolescence (for she's one of the most gifted actresses in the whole series and is evolving brilliantly: hey, guys, if you send her away to school in Switzerland, I swear I will quit watching forever!).

I can't remember ever doing this before, but I always watch each episode of MM multiple times: when they're new, then the next day, and then, after a few weeks or months, again. In each and every case, I've caught things I didn't "get" the first/second times around. Though everyone claims the '60s were a simpler time when things moved much more slowly, this show is for the quick of eye and swift of mind. Things can blur past you with the speed of a silver bullet. Not to be content with three viewings, I now have the DVD set(s) so I can watch them all again whenever I want. It doesn't matter that I can anticipate what will happen next: like Casablanca or Gone With the Wind, familiarity only enhances the experience.

I've seen a curious number of conflicting articles on the subject of Mad Men's mysterious, infuriating delay. AMC is "officially" saying they can't show MM at the same time as Breaking Bad or Weird Undead Zombies from Hell or whatever the bleep it is. Just a scheduling conflict! Why, I don't know.



Probably because that's not why. This is all about Weiner, who knows damn well he has this show in his hot little pocket, and is consequently stamping his hot little foot. It's power-tripping and yo-yo-jerking and manipulation, while the cast probably holds its breath, each hoping they won't pull the short straw and be relegated to the phone booth in the gay dog park where we saw the last of Sal.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010