Indeed, for much of its running time the finale took on the characteristics of a once eye-catching balloon slowly deflating. But it ended the way that it did, prompting the kind of hindsight reflection and feverish debate that followed the finales of “Lost” (a total dud) and “The Sopranos” (which grows ever more impressive as time passes) and giving “Mad Men” a last-minute punch that ensures its inclusion in the Finale Hall of Fame. (The top two entries in the Finale Hall of Fame, in my humble opinion, belong to the series finales of “Newhart” and “The Mary Tyler Moore Show.” Third place belongs to “The Sopranos.” Somewhere farther down this list you’ll find “Friday Night Lights” and “Breaking Bad.”)
Did Don have a moment of supreme clarity brought on by a combination of trauma, despair, yoga and meditation that led him to create one of the greatest commercials with one of the strongest messages (and deepest emotional connections) in modern history? That seems to be the consensus among critics. It’s a nice conclusion, but I think it is also possible that there was no true connection between Don achieving bliss (or just escaping his unhappiness) and that Coke ad. It may have been placed there simply as a reminder of what so many people (especially teens and young adults) were so desperate to experience at the time (and for a while were led to believe they could do so by sharing a Coke). The Sixties hadn’t been easy on anyone.
To the credit of series creator and mastermind Matthew Weiner and everyone involved with the show, we’ll be talking about that little surprise and arguing about what it really meant for years to come. I tend to favor the idea that Don and the commercial were not connected, and that the “Mad Men” narrative simply stopped, not as abruptly as that of “The Sopranos,” but in the same way that it started, with Weiner gingerly dropping in on a group of people who were about to experience the most tumultuous decade in American history. We came, we saw, we took our leave, and best of luck to them all. Thanks for the trip, Matthew.
(An aside: I think the coolest thing Weiner could have done at the last would have been to digitally alter the Coke commercial so that aspiring actress Megan Calvet Draper would have been briefly but clearly visible in it. Maybe that would have made Weiner’s intent too absolute, but it certainly would have given people even more to talk about.)
I have to admit, after a week of Upfront events in which almost every executive on every stage spoke at length about the need to attract and appeal to Millennials, it was kind of nice in those final moments of “Mad Men” to see an iconic piece of content (the Coke commercial) that is largely unknown to anyone under the age of 45 and of no interest to anyone under 35 move to the center of the media universe. I wonder why Coke didn’t arrange to release a freshly digitized version of that commercial immediately after the finale, given that so many people have been humming its tune ever since? It would certainly stand out in the largely digitized and emotionally distancing commercial clutter of 2015.
Like every other fan of this show who has been with it from the beginning I had a number of varying reactions to the final episode, and to the final half-season overall. I still don’t understand why so much time was devoted to Don’s interest in that unfortunate waitress. Was she the impetus for his cross-country trip of self-loathing and self-discovery? Surely there could have been a more compelling story about his need to suddenly escape himself, which seemed to lead to his finally finding himself or a part of himself that he didn’t know was buried way inside his increasingly dark and hollow false identity. I don’t even remember the woman’s name.
Frankly, I wish even half the time devoted to that waitress had instead been spent further developing the relationship between Peggy and Stan, whose declarations of love and devotion at the last seemed to come out of nowhere, unless I missed something so subtle it totally escaped me. I prefer to think of Peggy as the early Seventies version of the self-made woman triumphantly strutting down that McCann hallway at the end of the second-to-last episode. That’s one of the many images from this show that I will never forget for as long as I live. In some ways the “Mad Men” I have known and loved for so long ended with that scene.
I would also have appreciated more time with poor Betty. What a downer the apparent end of her story turned out to be. As much as I admire “Mad Men” I will never understand the perpetual contempt for this character that Weiner and his writers seemed to have right from the start. It makes me mad just thinking about it. Betty was a study in quiet (and sometimes not so quiet) sadness and misery right from the beginning.