I don't know why it bothers me so much in movies and TV shows when characters open up and say what's on their minds. I mean, in my own life, I'm pretty much an open book; if I've got a crick in my neck or I had a weird dream, I share it with whomever happens to be around. But on tonight's Mad Men, when Roger said, "Jane makes me very happy," or Betty told an adulterous friend, "There's a difference between wanting and having," or Flashback Don talked about how much he loved Betty, or Present Don confessed, "I have been watching my life," I shook my head a little. It was like somebody had uttered "Let's fuck" in the midst of a long line of sublimely seductive innuendo.
I'll be honest: I didn't really care for this episode. I found it jumbled, overly busy, and stymied by an epidemic of telling instead of showing. Even the symbolic imagery felt clumsy: Joan pointedly leaving the bouquet of flowers behind after her fiancé rapes her in Don's office, Betty getting her period after having the "You're a big girl so I can tell you things" conversation with Sally, Don taking a baptismal swim at the end… none of it really worked for me. And during Peggy's Don-like pitch to the Popsicle people (her slogan: "Take It. Break It. Share It. Love It."), I felt like I was watching a parody of Mad Men, not the show that delivered one of the strongest episodes of TV I've ever seen last week.
But I don't want to dwell too much on the negative, because I'm sure a lot of you got more out of "The Mountain King" than I did, and perhaps you can persuade me in the comments that I missed something amazing. And anyway, some necessary business was dispatched tonight. Most significantly, we learned that the woman Don called last week–and the one he sent Meditations In An Emergency to back in Episode One–was indeed, as some had guessed, a person who knew the original Don Draper. In fact, she was Draper's wife, Anna, and in a series of flashbacks we learn how "our" Don confessed his identity-stealing to her, and how she's become his well-paid confidante over the years (as well as his secret ex-wife, of course).
Meanwhile, plans for the Putnam, Powell & Lowe merger with Sterling-Cooper are continuing apace, without Don's participation or blessing. And a happy Roger–buzzing with the prospect of cash-flow, and newly enamored of female empowerment–acquiesces to Peggy's request to move into Freddy's old office. And Pete's refusal to go along with Trudy's adoption plan costs him the Clearasil account (and costs Trudy one fine-looking roasted chicken). And Betty seems to be pulling out of her funk. And Paul's back from registering black voters (and losing his girlfriend). Most of the major plot threads introduced early in the season are quickly coming to some kind of an end, which means there's a mixture of relief, resignation and lingering uncertainly filling the air. If you've ever bought a house, you know this feeling: There's a stack of papers sitting in front of you in some generic suburban office park. It's time for the closing.