Click above to watch part 1 of the pilot. Click here to see the rest.
I like to talk as if I live a very lavish, party-filled lifestyle, but the truth is that on July 4th, I found myself at home by 9:30 with nothing to do. Televised options were limited, and I was completely caught up with my backlog of programs on the Tivo. Sure, I could have done something productive like reading or even writing, but c’mon, let’s not talk crazy. Truth was that I’d been hankering to watch Mad Men, the critically acclaimed AMC series whose hype has been inescapable of late: cover stories in The New York Times Magazine section, newly released DVD box sets, rumors of Emmy glory  it’s all been practically suffocating.
Well, with nothing better to do, I decided to dip my pen into the On Demand well and download the first episode. And so the adventure began.
For those who haven’t actually heard of Mad Men, the series takes place in 1960 amidst the smoke-filled offices of Madison Avenue, a precarious turning point in modern history as American society transitions from the staid Eisenhower era to the tumultuous ’60s. It’s a unique and oft-overlooked period, and creator Matt Weiner (pronounced “Winer”) meticulously recreates it, from the quaintly outmoded IBM typewriters to the rampant sexism (and racism and anti-Semitism) that dominated all facets of life. However, this isn’t a show that’s simply content to wink and nudge at this bygone era. It’s about much more  the perils of the workplace, the pressures of family, the burden of social expectations. Like The Sopranos (on which Weiner also served as a writer), Mad Men takes a specific context and pulls out universal themes, making it thrillingly accessible to everyone.
In short, Mad Men is amazing.
However, I say that with some guilt. When the series premiered last summer on AMC, I meant to watch it. The show certainly garnered plenty of accolades, but I had some concerns: would a show set in 1960 really resonate with me? I wasn’t really sure. Nevertheless, I intended to sample it, but whenever I remembered to set my DVR, I was always off somewhere else, and by the time I returned home, my mind had wandered onto something else. Excuses, excuses… I know. It tore me up inside. It really did. And it’s not just because I’m an avid TV fan. No, I felt horrible because (drumroll) I used to work for Matt Weiner.
Back in 2002, I was a writers assistant on the short-lived but totally brilliant Andy Richter Controls the Universe. I remember the first day of season two. I was sitting in the bungalow at Paramount Studios, waiting for the staff show up, when Matt Weiner walked in. He was the first writer to show up that day, and he happily introduced himself to me. We chit chatted a little bit, and at one point, he asked if I’d call ahead to see about getting him an access pass for the studio lot. I dialed up operations and said, “Hi, I need to get a pass for… for… um…” It occurred to me that I had totally forgotten his name, but rather than simply saying, “I’m sorry, could I get your name again?” I made that completely amateur mistake of GUESSING.
“Um… I need a pass for Rob Weener,” I said, completely butchering his last name (not to mention his first). Matt simply chuckled and corrected me, and while I sat there embarrassed (as I should have been  I mean seriously), he never made me feel bad about my mistake. Matt turned out to be one of the most affable writers on the staff (although, to be honest, they all were incredibly cool and friendly). He always treated the writers assistants extremely well, and he seemed to genuinely feel bad whenever he felt he was imposing on us for anything. One day, we found a random Jeopardy board game in the bungalow, and for about a month, Matt and I and another writers assistant, Jeremiah, would play it rigorously during breaks. It would often get quite competitive, and seeing that Matt was once a Jeopardy contestant, Jeremiah and I always had our work cut out for us. I think we beat him a few times though, but even if we didn’t, I’m gonna say we did, just to inflate my ego.
The point of all this is that Matt was a very cool guy. I never hung out with him socially (the closest being that I went to his house once to return a VHS copy of Indictment: The McMartin Trial, a TV movie he absolutely raved about), but we always got along quite nicely, and when you’re a writers assistant trying to make it in Hollywood, any writer who takes you under their wing in even the smallest way is a big deal.
Then in the fall of 2002, big things started to happen for Matt. He came into the office, and he was just bursting at the seams, dying to announce something. “I got hired for The Sopranos,” he told us. Everyone’s jaws dropped. The Sopranos was the Holy Grail of television shows, and writing jobs did not come easily on it. The last thing anyone expected was for David Chase to pick a sitcom writer, let alone one on an ailing FOX show. Everyone was truly thrilled for Matt, and we repeatedly told him he was gonna be big time now. Little did we realize just how big time he’d be. Six years later, he’s a Golden Globe and Peabody award winner. The toast of the town, if you will.
That’s not to say we didn’t know about Mad Men. I don’t remember if it was before he got hired on The Sopranos or after, but Matt would often talk about his Mad Men idea: a series set in a 1960s advertising agency. It was literally his dream project, and any mention of it would get him all fired up and passionate. One night, he gave me the pilot to read. I liked it. I thought it was really good. It was also completely different than anything else of his I’d read. Unfortunately, a lot of the ’60s references went completely over my head, and I became so bogged down in trying to understand the world that I missed the forest for the trees, not really seeing the broader strokes of the story and themes. How embarrassing, I know.
Still, I always remembered the script, and years later, when Mad Men surfaced on AMC, I was genuinely happy for Matt that his passion project had come to fruition. And now you can see why I felt massively guilty for not watching the series in its initial run. Here was this writer who had always been totally friendly to me, going so far as to let me read his prized spec script which would then go on to be a much-lauded critical darling, and I didn’t have time to check out one episode? OY.
Even worse, I happened to run into Matt at a strike rally in November, and as I congratulated him on all the success of the show, I felt like a phony-ass bastard the entire time. I mean, the congratulations were sincere, but I felt lame that I hadn’t seen a single episode. These things weigh heavily on me, people.
And so it was with a guilty, guilty heart that I turned my attention to Mad Men this past Friday. This was how I’d punish myself for being an unsupportive supporter. I would deprive myself of fireworks on the 4th, and watch Mad Men instead.
I made the right choice.
The first episode was great. I was totally sucked in. Things that didn’t quite make sense to me six years ago absolutely popped on screen. Everything just… worked. Halfway through the episode, I started downloading the second episode. And then the third. By the end of the night, I had zoomed through the first six, and the only thing stopping me from watching more was the clock reading 4:15 AM.
The next day, I spent all my free time watching episode after episode. I couldn’t stop. I loved being around these characters; I loved being in this world. I never wanted the shows to end. I became obsessed. What was supposed to be a two or three week viewing experience suddenly condensed into a twenty-four hour marathon. I’d never done this with a TV show before. It was fantastic.
At 1:30 AM on Sunday, I realized I hadn’t had dinner yet. I skipped out to the local McDonald’s and discovered a brand new burger: the Angus Chipotle BBQ Bacon Burger. I gasped in awe. WHAT WAS THIS JOY THAT HAD JUST ARRIVED IN MY LIFE??? Ten minutes later, I was back at home, watching Mad Men and chowing down on this new heavenly burger (not to mention the fries, which were one of those PERFECT batches). I could not have been happier.
Sadly, I’ve reached the end of the season, which means I’ll now have to wait three interminable weeks before I can get back to the exploits of Don Draper and the Sterling Cooper advertising agency (new season starts July 27th on AMC). To fill the void, I’ve become something of a Mad Men missionary, trying to convert the non-believers at every possibly juncture. Just last night, after a long sales pitch by me about the show, my friend texted me simply, “Mad men is amazing.” This was followed by another kvelling text from her which ended with the proclamation, “Increds.”
So here I am, continuing with my mission. At this point, I get a few thousand readers here every day. I’m putting my blogger sway behind this show. If you’ve never seen Mad Men, catch it On Demand, and if that’s not an option, get the Season One DVDs. Of course, you can also check out the pilot, the first part of which I’ve conveniently embedded at the top of this post (the remaining parts can be found here). Then on July 20th, catch the marathon on AMC. It’s worth it.
Have you seen Mad Men? What do you think?