“Mad Men” got away from mass murder on Sunday night. After episodes set against the Richard Speck and Charles Whitman massacres, “Far Away Places” avoided the news of the day. Its dueling thematic backdrops were two movies released in June 1966, “The Naked Prey” and “Born Free.” Men: destined to be chased through the jungle by primitive warriors. Women: destined to be brought up in captivity until it is not clear whether they can survive in the wild.
It was an episode about the various forms of bondage in which the characters exist — you could say it was an episode about relationships and break-ups, but it was really more about individual hells and how they sometimes intersect. That’s all just burying the lede, though, given that what it really was was the episode in which Roger did LSD.
Handed a tab on a golden platter at a horrifyingly pretentious dinner party, Roger turns on, tunes in (to the Beach Boys’ “I Just Wasn’t Made for These Times,” natch) and drops out of his marriage, when he and Jane get a little too honest and she tells him she’s just been waiting for him to say it’s over. “So what was wrong again?” he asks. “You don’t like me,” she replies. “I did,” he says, with the earnestness only psychotropic drugs can bring. “I really did.” The next morning they ratify the break-up — Jane saying, “It’s going to be very expensive” — and by the end of the episode Roger is on a natural high, announcing to Don, “It’s going to be a beautiful day.” (Given the show’s seriousness about such things, we can assume that’s not a reference to the San Francisco band It’s a Beautiful Day, which wasn’t formed until 1967.)
Meanwhile, Don and Megan head upstate on the spur of the moment for a fact-finding trip to the Howard Johnson’s flagship. Actually, it was the spur of three moments, as this plot was presented in a time-fractured, “Last Year at Marienbad” style, which was kind of cool but served no special purpose that I could see — supply your own explanation regarding Don and Megan’s different perspectives, or general trippiness.
Imposing his will as usual, Don drags Megan away from the Heinz presentation — when she protests, he says, “I’m the boss and I’m ordering you.” Later she says that she feels she’s abandoned the team and his reply — “There must be some advantage to being my wife” — leaves the question, what?
When their mutual anger boils over at HoJo, it’s Don who acts out, driving away and leaving his wife standing outside the restaurant. He returns to find Megan gone, spends an agonizing night waiting for her and then drives back to Manhattan, where she’s been all the time, bolted inside the apartment. They fight, cry and appear to make up, but throughout the story all I could think was: What kind of husband that I’m supposed to care about leaves his wife standing outside a Howard Johnson’s?
Don wasn’t allowed to end the episode happy, however. In his absence Peggy — upset after a morning fight with Abe Drexler, startled by Don’s unexpected absence — has bungled the latest pitch to Heinz, getting in the face of the client in a way that works for Don but not for her. Now Bert tells Don that a client left unhappy because Don has “a little girl running everything” and chides Don for being on “love leave” and ignoring business. If he only knew.
Can’t leave without mentioning Peggy’s reaction to her disastrous pitch, which appears to have resulted in her removal from the Heinz account. (An opening for Megan?) Leaving early — just like her boss — she goes to see “Born Free,” bums a toke from a guy in the audience and, while Elsa the lionness tries to make it on her own, unbuckles his pants and makes it a matinee to remember. In its Erica Jong-ness, the scene harks back to her gender-reversed (by 1960s standards) argument with Abe — he’s feeling used, she can’t just jump in the sack after a hard day at work.
I’m assuming that the episode’s title was a reference to the then already old song, made popular by Bing Crosby and covered many times, with its refrain, “Those far-away places with the strange sounding names/Are calling, calling me.” Appropriate for an episode about people feeling trapped, which would make it appropriate for just about any episode of “Mad Men.” Did we hear a version of it? And did I miss a reference that would have pinpointed the time frame, which must be sometime after the first week of August 1966?
Looking forward to your thoughts and observations in the comments.
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