Mad, Mad world
The Resident Geek and I are gradually catching up with Series 1 of Mad Men, having failed to keep up but recorded it all on the basis that we knew we'd want to watch it eventually.
I find it fascinating - as character drama, as period piece, as social commentary - even while it frequently makes me want to gnaw my own arms off or hide cringing behind the sofa at the utter hideousness of the situations and the behaviour.
The RG and I were struck this evening by the fact that as usual it had taken us more than an hour to watch a 45-minute episode; compared to any of our faster-paced drama faves, which we generally watch agog hissing "Shuddupshuddupshuddup!" if either of us ventures a remark, all the enjoyment of MM seems to come out at a meta-level so that we're constantly pausing it and launching into disquisitions/rants.
I did observe this evening that next time I hear/see in print any woman remarking that she doesn't feel it necessary for her to be a feminist, I'm going to sit her down and force her to watch the whole of MM Series One back-to-back while I shout, "This was barely fifty years ago! In a supposedly civilised Western nation! And you have the luxury of not seeing the need to be a feminist because other women were and took this kind of thing on and changed it!"
(See, I told you it made me rant. Don't even get me started on the drink-driving, or the smoking around children, or the anti-Semitism...)
Was also struck this evening by the fact that one of the few characters who seems to have any insight into how mad it all is (Betty) is the only one in therapy. Perhaps, given that my gut reaction to that portrayal of 1950s America is "dear God, you're all crazy", it's fitting that one of the more self-aware characters (and that's relative) is the one who's treated as though she were slightly unbalanced...
I find it fascinating - as character drama, as period piece, as social commentary - even while it frequently makes me want to gnaw my own arms off or hide cringing behind the sofa at the utter hideousness of the situations and the behaviour.
The RG and I were struck this evening by the fact that as usual it had taken us more than an hour to watch a 45-minute episode; compared to any of our faster-paced drama faves, which we generally watch agog hissing "Shuddupshuddupshuddup!" if either of us ventures a remark, all the enjoyment of MM seems to come out at a meta-level so that we're constantly pausing it and launching into disquisitions/rants.
I did observe this evening that next time I hear/see in print any woman remarking that she doesn't feel it necessary for her to be a feminist, I'm going to sit her down and force her to watch the whole of MM Series One back-to-back while I shout, "This was barely fifty years ago! In a supposedly civilised Western nation! And you have the luxury of not seeing the need to be a feminist because other women were and took this kind of thing on and changed it!"
(See, I told you it made me rant. Don't even get me started on the drink-driving, or the smoking around children, or the anti-Semitism...)
Was also struck this evening by the fact that one of the few characters who seems to have any insight into how mad it all is (Betty) is the only one in therapy. Perhaps, given that my gut reaction to that portrayal of 1950s America is "dear God, you're all crazy", it's fitting that one of the more self-aware characters (and that's relative) is the one who's treated as though she were slightly unbalanced...