Let’s Over-Analyze a Commercial, Shall We?

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At work, Rebekah was talking about the Filet-o-Fish commercial and then posted the link on Facebook. The first time I watched it, I cracked up. But then the song got stuck in my head for two days. And now I’m seeing the commercial all the time. If you haven’t seen it, take a look, but as the fish would say, if it were stuck in your head, you wouldn’t be laughing at all.

I don’t quite get it. Things this commercial makes me wonder:

-Why, exactly, does the fish want the sandwich? Does he want to eat it? Is he a cannibal? Or
does he want to, like, find solidarity with another dead fish?

-And why does he say “give me back that Filet-o-Fish”? When was it ever his? Is it his fish buddy or something? Or…maybe part of him was made into a sandwich and the rest of him is hanging on the wall? Ew.

-Also, “You wouldn’t be laughing at all”? The guy’s not laughing!

-And also, the guy seems pretty nonchalant about the whole thing. His friend who walks in while the fish is singing is the only one who looks surprised. So…has this happened before? Does the fish normally start singing? Does he only sing when you eat a Filet-o-Fish, or does he burst into song for any other reason? Does he take requests? Does he only sing, or does he talk, too?

-Also, I’m pretty sure this ad is running now because it’s Lent—the whole no-meat-on-Fridays thing. So…why exactly is this supposed to encourage us to eat Filet-o-Fish? Does McDonalds think reminding us of the poor, dead fish that went into the sandwich is supposed to make us want to eat them?

-At what point in this post did you say, “Wow, Katie has thought about this way too much”?

Katie Recommends: Frozen River

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When it came out in August, I read a review for the low-budget indie movie Frozen River and thought it sounded interesting, but I didn’t get around to watching it until it came out on DVD a few weeks ago. I’m here to encourage you to do the same.

It takes place in northern New York, near Canada—an area of the country I can’t remember seeing portrayed in any other work of fiction. Ray (Melissa Leo) is a cashier and mother of two whose gambling-addicted husband has run off with the money they were going to use for a down payment on a new house. She has to ask for $2.74 worth of gas at the gas station until she finds an extra five bucks at the bottom of her purse, and her family’s dinner sometimes consists of popcorn and Tang.

While she’s looking for her husband, she meets a Mohawk woman named Lila (Misty Upham) who gets extra cash by driving to Canada over the frozen St. Lawrence River to smuggle immigrants into the country. Seeing Ray as a white woman with a car, unlikely to be stopped, Lila asks Ray to help her with the smuggling. Ray is reluctant at first, but eventually agrees.

This is a very grim movie, but a realistic one. I don’t want to give too much away, but I’ll just say that it’s very suspenseful and kept me guessing. The acting is fantastic—while I’m thrilled that Kate Winslet won the Oscar because I love her and she’d been nominated too many times without winning, I think Melissa Leo deserved it more. It’s not perfect—in particular, I’m a little annoyed at some important details that I feel were left out of Lila’s story—but it’s extremely well done. Amazingly, this is writer-director Courtney Hunt’s first feature-length movie, and I’ll be very interested to see what she does next.

Other movies I’ve seen lately:

Milk
I almost recommended this instead, but fewer people have seen Frozen River. Anyway, Milk is absolutely amazing. There aren’t a lot of movies that not only move me but inspire me to learn more, and that’s what Milk did. Before I saw it, I knew the bare details of the Harvey Milk story—gay politician in San Francisco in the 1970s who was assassinated by another politician who got off easy due to the “Twinkie Defense”— but not much else. I hadn’t known about what he actually did as city supervisor—most notably, sponsoring a civil rights bill and being instrumental in the defeat of Proposition 6, which would have led to the firing of gay teachers in California—or anything about his personal life or even his personality. But after seeing this movie, I watched a documentary called The Times of Harvey Milk, and I’m planning on reading The Mayor of Castro Street as soon as I can. Sean Penn is absolutely brilliant— I could barely remember that this was the same guy who felt the need to demonstrate his lack of a sense of humor at the 2005 Oscars. Josh Brolin is also great as Milk’s assassin, Dan White. While he’s not sympathetic, Brolin makes him interesting and three-dimensional, and while I don’t know if this was true, the movie implies that White may have been in the closet. (Side note: how did I not know until the Oscars that Josh Brolin is married to Diane Lane?)

The movie is also incredibly well-written. Screenwriter Dustin Lance Black, whose acceptance speech made me cry, completely deserved his Oscar. The timing of this movie is interesting, too—Harvey’s speech on hope (“I know you cannot live on hope alone, but without hope, life is not worth living”) is reminiscent of a certain politician we elected on the same day Californians demonstrated how little has changed since the 1970s. Bottom line: see this as soon as you can. It’s fantastic, and would have deserved Best Picture just as much as Slumdog Millionaire.

Speaking of which…

Slumdog Millionaire
First, what I didn’t like: it’s fairly predictable, and in telling the main character’s life story, there’s one part that the movie leaves out that I would have liked to see. Also, both the Golden Globes and the Screen Actors Guild Awards spoiled a major scene at the end. Other than that, I liked about everything about Slumdog Millionaire. While it’s a love story at heart, it’s also very dark, and I like that it brings attention to the plight of kids living in the slums of India. Another thing this movie made me think about is how we accumulate knowledge. The main character, Jamal, is able to answer the questions on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? not because he’s super-intelligent, but because he’s picked up bits of knowledge from a variety of places. And if you’ve ever played any kind of trivia game, you know how much sense that makes—the answers that are obvious for you aren’t so for everyone else.

The Reader
This is worth a watch, for sure, but I’m surprised it was nominated for Best Picture. While it’s a well-done movie, there’s a certain…coldness to it, for lack of a better word, that turned me off. Kate Winslet plays a very interesting character, but one who’s not exactly sympathetic. This wouldn’t be a problem except that it sometimes feels like the movie is begging you to sympathize with her— did I mention that she’s a Nazi war criminal? The secret that’s revealed halfway through the movie is supposed to shed light on her actions, but it’s not really a surprise and doesn’t explain all that much. Kate Winslet is very good in it, and I’m glad she got her Oscar since she’s been so consistently excellent in everything she’s been in but like I said, I think Melissa Leo in Frozen River, and Winslet herself in a lot of her other movies, were better.

He’s Just Not That Into You
First, let me say that I absolutely love the book and consider it my relationship bible. It’s a book that delivers concrete examples of such a simple concept: if it’s not obvious that he likes you, stop making excuses for him—he’s just not that into you and you need to move on. The movie takes this philosophy and applies it to three main storylines: one about a sweet but clueless woman and the man trying to get her to see things clearly, one about a woman whose boyfriend of seven years doesn’t want to get married as much as she does, and one about a love triangle involving a young woman and a married couple. I do like romantic comedies, and while this won’t become a classic, it’s a fun watch. I was cringing at some parts of it, though—Ginnifer Goodwin plays a character who tends to misread signals and make some embarrassing mistakes. I recommend it, but you definitely need to read the book, too.

Revolutionary Road
…Damn. This movie is ridiculously depressing. I had high hopes for it because I’ve loved Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet, both separately and together, since my days as a Titanic fangirl. While the two of them don’t disappoint with their excellent performances, I couldn’t enjoy the movie as a whole. 90% of it is the two of them, a married couple in the Connecticut suburbs in 1955, screaming at each other. Like, imagine if Mad Men was all about Don and Betty. It starts off sad and just gets darker and darker—these are two people who aren’t happy with their lives and will never find what they’re looking for. Also, the screenplay is very melodramatic and lacking in subtlety. The most interesting parts involve their neighbor’s son, a mentally disturbed man with no filter (Michael Shannon) whose words hit a bit too close to home. Note that Shannon was the only cast member to get an Oscar nomination. I actually think Kate Winslet might have been better here than in The Reader, but great acting and pretty actors are really the only reasons I have to recommend this movie.

This Should Tell You Something About My City

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I was going down to the platform at Back Bay Station today when a train came in. I couldn’t see anything that indicated whether it was inbound or outbound, and since I don’t take the Orange Line often and have only been in that station a few times, I had to stand there thinking about whether or not I was supposed to get on the train. As I finally realized that it wasn’t the train I was waiting for, someone else came down the stairs and literally shoved me out of the way to get on.

The thing is, I’m not offended at all. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been tempted to do something like that.

Valentine’s Day in Boston. Feel the love.

The 22nd Thing

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“25 Things” is the latest Facebook phenomenon. It’s such a simple idea—write down 25 random facts about yourself and tag your friends to do the same. It’s spread so fast that it’s prompted articles in, at least, Time and the Boston Globe, and, of course, some backlash already. It’s gotten to the point where “my twenty-five things” is coming up in casual conversation. But while I agree that it’s a tad self-indulgent, I think it’s fun, and I’ve learned a lot from it. Now all my Facebook friends know that 90s sitcoms are my TV equivalent of comfort food and that, despite not knowing how to sail, I’d like to own a boat someday. And I’ve learned that I have a lot in common with many of my friends. A surprising number of them remember the old PBS shows as fondly as I do (but that’s a subject for another post). I’m not the only person who never gets sick of the view between Charles MGH and Kendall on the Red Line. It also turns out that I have friends who share my affinity for 90s pop, don’t like sandwiches with meat, and even one who’s afraid of geese, and that my sister and I have more in common than I realized.

One thing that people have commented on a lot, though, is my 22nd thing—that I never get bored. People keep telling me what a great thing that is.

But the thing is, it’s both a blessing and a curse. It’s true that I don’t get bored. Even when I was little, I was very good at keeping myself entertained. It’s partly because I enjoy things that tend to be solitary activities, like reading and writing. And as I mentioned in another post, I feel like I don’t have enough hours in the day, so I’ll never run out of things to read or things to write. Even if I do, I don’t mind re-reading old books, or re-watching movies or TV show episodes.

But while I don’t get bored, I do get lonely. Quite a bit, actually. Sometimes I think that my ability to keep myself entertained has prevented me from getting close to people. But it’s a two-way street: I don’t need other people to be entertained, and other people don’t need me.

Unfortunately, I’ve discovered recently that while I’m happy by myself, I’m happier with people around. It’s not like I don’t have friends—I do—but, as I’ve said before, I don’t have anyone who really cares whether or not I’m there. I don’t have anyone who calls me to share good or bad news the moment it happens. On Fridays, people at work will ask me if I have weekend plans and on Mondays, they’ll ask me what I did over the weekend. More often than not, the answer is “nothing.” Or, not nothing, since I was probably writing or watching a movie, but nothing that involved other people.

I think I need to start taking more initiative myself. I have a lot of casual friends that I’d like to be closer to. People always say that it’s better to have a few close friends than a lot of casual ones, and I often feel like I have the latter. But I tend to get anxiety about inviting people to do things. I’ve lost enough friends, either due to the girl drama that tends to happen in school or simply due to time and distance, that I tend to make myself think that people are just pretending to like me. And I’m so horribly awkward that I feel like that’s the only thing that people remember about me.

I don’t want to do another woe-is-me, I’m-alone-again Valentine’s Day entry this year, but I don’t think I’d mind being single so much if I felt like I had friends who needed me. At some point, I might take a job that would take me away from Boston, and it would be so much easier if I had a boyfriend—someone who would go there with me, or, at the very least, miss me a lot. I feel like if I left Boston now, everyone would forget about me, and I’d be alone in a new city. We’d say we’d keep in touch, but even with the best of intentions, people lose touch. It’s happened often enough with me.

Well, I guess this turned into a whiny, woe-is-me post anyway. My apologies. Maybe I’m the only person who has this problem, but if there’s anything 25 Things has taught me, it’s that when you think you’re the only one, you’re probably wrong.

Where Was I?

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(Note: Consider this the make-up post for the three election posts that I didn’t make in November. This will not be the most interesting or the most insightful thing you read about the inauguration of Barack Obama, but I can’t let the day pass without writing something.)

I was at Amrhein’s with a bunch of co-workers. Like most people, I had to work today, and I was a little nervous, since I didn’t want to have to tell my grandchildren, “Uh, when Obama was sworn into office, I was importing a test bank into ExamView.” (If you don’t work with me, you probably have no idea what that means, and neither will my grandchildren. Trust me, the inauguration was more interesting.) Then an email went around about all of us watching it in a conference room with a computer hooked up to a projector, but when that wasn’t working, and we confirmed that we didn’t have cable in the building, there was instead a mass exodus to Amrhein’s, a restaurant near our office, where the inauguration was playing on several screens. (Unfortunately, I ran out so fast that I forgot to grab my purse so that I could buy lunch.) And together we all cheered, burst into applause, and maybe got a little teary-eyed as we watched Barack Obama become President of the United States. (Side note: neither Barack nor Obama is recognized by spell check? Seriously?)

I voted for Obama. I think he’s smart, has a lot of good ideas, and understands where the American people are at. It’s not a coincidence that people in my age bracket were a big force in helping to elect him. On election night back in November, I remember hearing someone on CNN say that he thought one reason that young people are so supportive of Obama was that they see him as kind of a cool guy who “gets them.” It was a very condescending way of phrasing it, but I think he kind of had a point. I do think Obama “gets us.” The McCain campaign trashed him for being “the biggest celebrity in the world,” but why was that supposed to be a bad thing? He attracts crowds because he gets people excited. Because he gives people hope. Because people feel like he “gets them.”

The country has changed a lot in four years, and there’s a lot we can learn from this campaign and election. For one thing, I’m encouraged by the backlash against Sarah Palin. Maybe enduring the Bush presidency has taught Americans to recognize, and not vote for, politicians lacking in intelligence. And now that we’ve rejected Palin and Hillary Clinton is going to be Secretary of State, maybe young girls will see that it’s possible for women to succeed using their brains, and that trying to charm your way through serious questions to make up for your lack of experience won’t get you anywhere.

Seeing as I’m white and was born in 1984, I don’t feel qualified to write about the racial implications of this election. But it is pretty incredible that segregation was outlawed three years after Obama was born—and now, at age 47, he’s leading a country that would have sent him to the back of the bus less than half a century ago.

But of course, there was one truly ugly thing that came out of this election season—Proposition 8. I am glad to hear that if no one over 65 voted, Proposition 8 would have failed—people over 65 have fewer elections left. And while I can kind of excuse older adults for their votes for Prop 8, I think that for someone of my generation, being for Proposition 8 and being a good person are mutually exclusive. I don’t care whom I just offended by writing that. Do you think someone who goes up to a person who’s never done him any harm and says, “I don’t want you to be happy,” is a good person? Because that’s what the people who voted yes on 8 did to gay couples all over California.

But today makes me wonder—if our outlook and priorities can change so drastically in the four years since the last election, and if we can go from a segregated nation to one with an African-American president in less than five decades, in 50 years, will we be electing a married, openly gay president? Will we be standing here in eight years, no longer ruefully starting sentences with, “Well, in this economy…”? Will we be able to open the paper without reading about another soldier killed in Iraq? Will we be able to seek medical treatment without a single thought about what our insurance will charge us?

Maybe we won’t. Obama’s not a miracle worker, after all, and he made one mistake before he was even done with the oath of office.

But maybe we will. At the very least, we hope so, and it doesn’t seem silly to hope so. And that’s why we elected Obama. Because in a way unlike any other politician I can remember, he gives us hope.

Much Better Than Resolving to Floss

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My new year’s resolution is to acquire more hours in the day. Miraculously. Once I have those hours, this is what I’ll do:

-Finish the novel I’m working on
-Finish the short story that’s been rattling around in my brain for years
-Spend more time trying to get nonfiction published
-Try to get an agent
-Try to get short stories published
-Take Grub Street classes/seminars
-Go to writing groups
-Post in this blog more often
-Cook more often and try making things I’ve never made before
-Read more nonfiction, since I mostly read fiction- in particular, I’d like to read more about religion, international relations, and economics.
-Watch more educational TV
-Go running more often
-Go swimming more often
-Go to classes at my gym (like spinning and yoga)
-Explore more of Boston (and Somerville/Cambridge—I’m still learning the geography!)
–Donate platelets once a month
-Volunteer on a regular basis
-Try bars and restaurants I’ve been meaning to try
-Learn more about designing web sites
-Watch more movies
-Watch more TV on DVD
-Go to more events like concerts and plays
-Improve my Spanish
-Find ways to meet more new people
-Get eight hours of sleep a night

Yeah. So I’ve kind of fallen behind on all of these things. It’s quite unfortunate. There’s so much I want to do that I feel like I don’t have time for. Maybe I just need to learn how to manage my time better, or maybe it’s just because I’ve been busy at work lately, but I feel like I haven’t done anything I’ve been wanting to do over the last year. So therefore, I’m moving on to Plan B: more hours in the day.

Christmas On TV (and DVD)

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Two years ago, I wrote about Christmas on the radio. So I think you can figure out where I’m moving from there.

I do love Christmas, even in years like this one, when I’m so busy that I feel like I don’t have time to take it all in as fully as I should. But even when I’m busy, one integral part of the Christmas season, along with Christmas carols and decorations, is Christmas movies and TV specials. I’ve seen several over the years, and here are ten of them—not necessarily my favorites, but the ones that are freshest in my mind or that are in some way noteworthy.

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
The first time I saw this movie, I was six and watching it with my mom on the little black-and-white TV we had upstairs. I got to stay up until nine, which was a huge deal. And I have barely missed it on TV every year since then. Those little Claymation reindeer, the Island of Misfit Toys, Herbie the Elf (who I’ve decided is a drag queen—he’s the only male elf with hair), and the abominable snow monster are as much of a Christmas story as anything else at this point.

Santa Claus is Coming to Town
The other Claymation Christmas special, and definitely the lesser of the two. This one’s about how Santa became Santa, and I watched it for the first time this year. It’s…kind of dull. Even Santa himself is boring, and while the music in Rudolph is memorable enough for me to have it on my iPod (shut up), the music in this one is…not.

A Charlie Brown Christmas
You can’t not smile watching those little Peanuts kids dance. (Actually, just thinking about it now, I got that song Schroeder plays on the piano stuck in my head.) There are sequels, and while It’s Christmastime again, Charlie Brown! is funny, it didn’t have the staying power of this one. The scene where Linus responds to Charlie Brown’s indignant, “Doesn’t anyone know what Christmas is about?!” is so memorable because, although this first came out in the 1960s, Christmas certainly hasn’t gotten any less commercialized since then.

It’s a Wonderful Life
Not just one of my favorite Christmas movies, but one of my favorite movies, period. At this point, it’s almost a Christmas cliché, which is a shame. Maybe I’m just a sap, but I find it genuinely moving, much more so than any modern film. It’s pretty much guaranteed to boost my mood.

The Muppets’ Christmas Carol
There are a million versions of A Christmas Carol, but I admit it—this one is my favorite. What can I say? I love the Muppets. This version has Kermit as Bob Cratchit and Miss Piggy as his wife (their kids, interestingly enough, are two frogs and two pigs), Michael Caine as Scrooge, Fozzie (my favorite) as “Fozziewig,” Gonzo as Charle s Dickens (well, sort of…a narrator who says he’s Charles Dickens, anyway), and Statler and Waldorf as the ghosts of “the Marleys.”

Home Alone
I was probably in second grade the first time I saw this, and they used to show it on NBC every Thanksgiving until they started doing Thanksgiving episodes of Friends. I remember thinking that once I got to stay home alone, I’d do everything Macauley Culkin did. It’s funny watching it now, because you question the plausibility of so many things you didn’t think twice about as a kid. And this movie also came out before cell phones, and if you think about it, there’d probably be no movie if it took place today—one of the plot devices was that the phone lines were down. But aside from all that, I still really enjoy this movie—and sadly enough, I don’t think second graders today watch it anymore.

Noel
I had not even heard of this movie until I noticed it in Wal-Mart last December 23rd and bought it on impulse. And it’s…not bad. Certainly not an Oscar winner, but not a waste of time, either. Susan Sarandon, Penelope Cruz, Paul Walker, and Alan Arkin play people with all kinds of problems—dying mother, failing relationship, dead wife— and while some parts are very sad, it’s more hopeful than depressing. Some parts are a bit cheesy, but I think this movie kind of fills a void—it’s not a schmaltzy Hallmark Hall of Fame movie, but it’s not an overly cynical Bad Santa or Surviving Christmas, either. It’s worth a watch.

Elf
I don’t love this movie, but I enjoyed it for what it is. I think it’s kind of becoming a modern Christmas classic—come to think of it, maybe the second graders who aren’t watching Home Alone are watching this instead. I’d heard so much about it before I saw it that there weren’t a lot of surprises. I remember my sister imitating the whale, Mr. Norwell, who pops up at the beginning as Buddy is leaving to say, “Bye, Buddy. Hope you find your dad!” and even though that’s only about thirty seconds out of the movie, it’s what I think of first if someone mentions Elf.

Frosty the Snowman
I’m not a huge fan of this one. Not sure why. I don’t think I could ever quite warm up (no pun intended) to Frosty. It doesn’t have all that much to do with Christmas until the end, either. The sequel, Frosty Returns, is funnier, but has even less to do with Christmas.

Love Actually
The first time I saw this movie, I thought, “Eh, that was all right.” But I think maybe I just wasn’t paying enough attention, because the second time I loved it. Actually. There are certainly flaws—some parts are implausible, some storylines are more interesting than others, and Hugh Grant as Prime Minister? Really? But overall, it’s a really enjoyable movie. I think the plot about the kid is my favorite, followed closely by the one about the guy who’s in love with his best friend’s wife. Billy Mack cracks me up, as does “Colin, God of Sex” on his quest to win over American girls. It’s really just a movie about love—and, of course, Christmas.

Between the Lines and Behind the Doors

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I will eventually post about the election. In fact, I’ll probably post about it three times because I have multiple thoughts on it. But this is something that’s been on my mind that I need to get out, even though I’m tired and need to be getting to bed.

I’ve written about the book The Song Reader before. It’s something I think about a lot, whenever the lyrics of a song keep echoing in my mind. And, as anyone who’s Facebook friends with me knows, lately, the song I’ve been listening to over and over is “Between the Lines” by Sara Bareilles. It’s a song I’d heard before but hadn’t listened to closely until last week. There was a specific situation I applied it to, but then I thought about another situation that was very different but equally applicable.

But then I started thinking about the song in a more universal sense. How many things do we attempt to gain knowledge of by reading between the lines?

I remember reading this article in New York magazine, about how the Internet has caused a generation gap (young people are willing to bear their souls online; their parents aren’t). And after reading it, all I could think was…no one reveals everything online, even to their friends. No one.

Excuse my very cheesy analogy, but the Internet, if you will, is like an extremely large collection of doors. There are the doors that are open to everyone. There are the doors that are locked. There are doors that are locked to most people, but that someone has given you the keys to. And there are doors that are open, but that you probably wouldn’t have found if someone hadn’t led you there.

You could all probably figure out what I meant. We’ve all searched for our own open doors—what people can find out about us by Googling us. We Google ourselves, the people we date, the people we crush on. I sometimes Google my friends just for the hell of it. And we make the most of what we have when we run into a locked door—we see if we have mutual friends with someone whose Facebook profile is private, or check if someone’s posted on someone else’s wall. When someone gives us the key to a door, we read whatever we can into his or her goofy poses in photographs or cryptic Livejournal posts. And if we find our way to an open door we weren’t led to, we feel the need to justify it: “Oh, uh…I found your blog after so-and-so linked to it.”

The thing is, though, you could have access to every bit of information available online about a person and still not know anything important about him. While sometimes in this blog I’m just rambling about TV or whining about the T, sometimes it’s my attempt to be honest and just say what I’m thinking without having to say it out loud—and sometimes hoping that someone will read it and say, “OMG, I know EXACTLY what you mean!!!” (in a less annoying way, of course). But there are so many things I can’t put out there, even in writing, even knowing that this is a door that someone would have to be led to. If years from now, I were to look back on this blog as a record of what I was thinking and feeling at the time, I wouldn’t know the half of what was going on with me. The Internet makes it easier to tell some stories and harder to tell others, and there are some that I would love to be able to tell but know that I never will.

I wonder what people will read between the lines of this entry—or between the lines of my recent obsession with “Between the Lines.” Posting that little Facebook status update reminded me of the days in college when we’d post song lyrics on our AIM away messages, leaving people to read between those lines. The funny thing was that sometimes they read them completely wrong. I remember once, I had the lyrics to “Drive” by Incubus up, and I meant it as a kind of expression of independence and individuality. But my friend Jon saw it and immediately IMed me saying, “What’s wrong?” One person’s anthem of living fearlessly is another’s angry rant.

And to bring this post full-circle, that’s one interesting thing about song reading—the same song can’t mean the same thing to two different people. I recently found this from the author of The Song Reader, which helps you figure out how to read between the lines of your songs. It’s something that might help you figure yourself out when you know that the people reading your vague status updates and cryptic blog posts never will.

It’s Been Awhile Since I Did a TV Post

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And this time it’s about Mad Men.

The pilot began with a title card:

“MAD MEN: A term coined in the late 1950’s to describe the advertising executives of Madison Avenue.They coined it.”

I don’t know what it is about this show. Most of the characters aren’t very likeable and the pacing is maddeningly (no pun intended) slow. But there’s something about it that sucks you in.

I actually hesitate to write too much about it because I don’t want to give a lot away. I caught the first season on On Demand, and I accidentally found out about one of the major plot twists of the first season before I saw it. But here are the basics: it’s set in New York in the 1960s and is about the lives and careers of advertising executives. If it’s accurate, advertising execs of that era were always drunk. And smoking. And, quite often, very sexist. And adhering to the sleeping-with-the-secretary cliché.

But while details like that are often heavy-handed, there are a lot of more subtle things going on. The first season ended at Thanksgiving of 1960, and the second season picked up on Valentine’s Day of 1962. At first, it seemed like not much had changed in a little over a year. But then, without giving too much away, I started picking up on little differences in the ways the characters interacted with each other—ways that symbolize the changes of the country as a whole during the 60s. The times, they are a-changin.

The protagonist, Don Draper, is a handsome thirty-something played extraordinarily well by Jon Hamm, and it’s a credit to both him and the writers that I find the character so interesting. To put it bluntly, he’s kind of an ass—he cheats on his wife, lies without batting an eye, and protects his own interests to the point of occasional cruelty. But somehow, I’m still rooting for him and waiting to learn more about him as his mysterious backstory unfolds. (I can hear how vague I sound, but seriously, I don’t want to give anything away.)

The most interesting characters, though, are the women. Betty, Don’s wife, is a beautiful former model who’s become a lonely housewife, unable to show warmth to her children and resentful of her unfaithful, inattentive husband. But while in Season 1 she was at times timid, in the second season she’s developed a steely glare and a firm tone of voice, and I’m interested to see what will happen with her character in Season 3. Joan Holloway, the office manager, uses wisely the power she has over the secretarial pool—and the different kind of power she has over the office men. In a different life and time, she could be one of the men she works for. But although she did well at one opportunity to fill in for a male colleague, her work went unnoticed, and sadly, her future is probably bound to her degrading relationship with her fiancé. On the other hand, Peggy Olson, the earnest secretary-turned-copywriter, is a woman who’s finding success in a man’s job. It’s been fascinating to watch her try to figure out how to succeed. Should she try to be one of the guys, or embrace her femininity? Should she treat the men as her superiors or as equals? Should she stay true to her kind nature or look out her own interests at the expense of her colleagues? The influence that Don, her boss, has over her is intriguing—particularly when he urges her to hide a secret she’s keeping, much like Don hides his own past. As the show continues, I wonder if she’ll continue to become more like Don.

There was a great article in the Globe recently that brought up some good points about the relevance these characters have in today’s world. Really, there could be a million more articles like that on all kinds of topics. I feel like I could write a paper, or several, on Mad Men. There’s nothing else like it on TV right now—and it’s also becoming clearer that the writers have a vision for this show, and that it could be headed for some very interesting storylines in the next season (which, sadly, won’t start until next summer).

You Eat Apples, Right? I Produce Entourage.

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Columbus Day weekend, Julie and I went to visit Christina. A fun time was had by all. Among our topics of conversation:

-How my sister, over Parents’ Weekend at BC, took my parents to Mary Ann’s. (No further explanation needed if you know anything about BC bars.)

-How, before YouTube, flash videos like this one were what we used to crack ourselves up in college. (Weirdly, I just had this same conversation at work a few weeks ago.)

-How we absolutely must see this movie, which we saw in a RedBox, at some point. “If they fly, you die.” Awesome.

-How this clip is unexpectedly hilarious.

I don’t know what it is about it. But here, if you haven’t seen it, is the follow-up to it.

-Fish of a certain shape and color.

No, there is not, in fact, a point to this post.