Megan’s bungalow in the Hollywood Hills is so remote Don refers to it as “Dracula’s castle.” And with the coyotes howling in the background, can you blame him? We know, we know — the Sharon Tate thing is old news, but sticking Megan the actress in an isolated, Hollywood-adjacent home (similar to the location where Tate met her untimely end) can’t be another coincidence… can it?
Don watches Lost Horizon, a movie about a man searching for an elusive Utopia. In the movie, the man eventually finds his Shangri-La. Is this a clue that Don, too, will reach his own personal enlightenment… or merely a reminder that happiness is just a moment before you need more happiness?
Is Pete’s new laid-back style the start of a slow slide into California hippiedom… or just the start of a new, terrible hairline for poor Vincent Kartheiser?
We actually don’t have a question to ponder about this Roger-and-hippies-in-the-buff scene, but are merely providing the screen shot as a public service for the Society for the Conservation and Appreciation of Silver Foxes.
Neve Campbell’s Lee is reminiscent of Linda Cardelini’s Sylvia — aka the woman emblematic of Don’s Season 6 spiral. Yet when Lee offers the ad man a ride home from the airport, he turns her down. Could his refusal be read as a symbol of Don’s growing self-awareness and desire to improve himself… or is it just a response to someone batty enough to think that scattering her late husband’s ashes at Disneyland was a good idea?
After Peggy’s brother-in-law leaves her apartment, remarking, “I don’t like Anita there alone in the house,” Pegs falls to her knees, sobbing. Is the scene foreshadowing some vague doom for women (like Peggy and Megan) on their own… or did Ms. Olsen just have a really, really bad day?
Don ends the season’s first episode in his skivvies, on his patio, on a January night in New York. Is this miserable tableau an indication that Draper is out in the cold (both literally and figuratively), that he’s succumbed to the fact that he can’t control everything (not even the broken sliding door that won’t keep out the chill)… or just another woe-is-me moment from the king of self-sabotaging pain?