The Color Blue (S3x10)
Airdate: 18 October 2009
Written by: Kate Gordon & Matthew Weiner
Directed by: Michael Uppendahl
Running Time: 48 minutes
Within the expansive, seven-season tapestry of Mad Men, it was all but inevitable that certain episodes would come to resemble each other in terms of theme, character dynamics, and plot mechanics. Given the series’ intense focus on the cyclical nature of personal history and the inescapability of one’s past, such repetitions can feel deliberate, yet they also risk appearing as creative retreads. A prime example of this phenomenon is found in Season 3’s The Color Blue, which functions, in many respects, as a deliberate and nuanced variation on themes first explored in the seminal Season 1 episode 5G. While the later episode attempts to deepen the psychological portrait of its protagonist, Don Draper, it simultaneously exposes some of the strain on the series’ narrative engine, revealing a writer’s room perhaps struggling to consistently mine new material from its richly constructed but firmly established world.
The most recognisable structural similarity between the two episodes is their pivotal narrative device: a gala public gathering at which Don Draper is to be honoured. In 5G, it is a minor advertising award; here, it is the fortieth anniversary celebration of Sterling Cooper’s founding. Don, as the agency’s creative talisman, is the natural choice for keynote speaker. The ceremony forces together the professional and personal in a manner typical of the series, but the corporate backdrop here is particularly fraught. The British overlords from PPL are pressuring Roger Sterling and Bert Cooper to attend, a directive delivered by the increasingly beleaguered Lane Pryce. Lane’s storyline provides the episode’s most potent subtext of imperial decline and personal futility. Having worked diligently to improve Sterling Cooper’s financial health, he learns that PPL intends simply to sell the agency, rendering his efforts meaningless. This professional despair is compounded by a domestic loneliness, as his wife Rebecca (Embeth Davidtz), homesick for London, remains oblivious that Lane’s original posting was meant to be Bombay. His is a life of quiet dislocation, a subtle counterpoint to Don’s more explosive secrets.
Those secrets are, as ever, driving the plot. Don is deep into his affair with his children’s teacher, Suzanne Farrell, and uses the alleged demands of his work for Conrad Hilton to spend nights away from home. This prolonged absence grants Betty the opportunity to discover the key to his locked desk drawer, wherein she finds the damning evidence of his stolen identity: money, photographs, and the divorce decree from Anna Draper. The revelation, which occurs in near-silent, devastating scenes, is brilliantly timed to coincide with Don’s public accolade, mirroring the ironic structure of 5G, where Don’s award ceremony leads to the arrival of his brother Adam. This repetition is not a flaw in itself; rather, it underscores the show’s central thesis that success and exposure are two sides of the same coin for Don Draper.
However, The Color Blue seeks to add a layer of moral complexity missing from the earlier, more brutal confrontation. Here, Don’s moment of crisis is intercut with his encounter with Suzanne’s brother, Danny Farrell (Marshall Allman). Danny, a young man plagued by epileptic seizures and an inability to hold a job, is a pathetic figure. Don, tasked with driving him to a janitorial position in Bedford, Massachusetts, sees in Danny a ghost of his own brother, Adam Whitman—the man he paid to disappear. Haunted by that past cruelty, Don chooses a different path. He gives Danny money and his business card, insisting he will “do it right” this time. It’s a moment that suggests a sliver of conscience, an attempt to break a vicious cycle, even as he actively perpetuates another through his adultery.
The episode’s B-plot, focusing on the creative process at Sterling Cooper, provides both comic relief and a potential meta-commentary on the series itself. Peggy Olson conceives a strong idea for a television commercial, but it is assigned to the struggling Paul Kinsey, who is flailing with the Western Union account. The sequence of Paul working late, fuelled by alcohol and desperation, culminates in a moment of inspiration sparked by a brief chat with the janitor, Achilles (Hal Landon Jr.). In a fit of drunken forgetfulness, he fails to jot it down, leading to his frustrated morning lament: “the faintest ink is better than the best memory.” This Chinese proverb, ironically, becomes the kernel for Peggy’s successful campaign pitch, framing telegrams as permanent records versus ephemeral phone calls. This subplot is charming but can be interpreted as a self-reflexive nod to the writers’ own challenges. By Season 3, the show had to go through a relatively uneventful historical year (1963) before the seismic shift of the Kennedy assassination. Paul’s struggle for a fresh, original idea mirrors the difficulty Matthew Weiner and his team may have faced in maintaining the show’s acclaimed quality and novelty without relying on grand historical events or repetitive character beats.
Where the episode falters, and where the strain perhaps becomes most visible, is in its attempts to inject original flavour through scenes of questionable tonal control. An effort at dark humour involving Roger Sterling’s senile mother, who mistakes his young wife Jane for his daughter Margaret, feels like a crude and overly broad jab at Roger’s May-December marriage. It lacks the subtle, character-driven irony that is the series’ hallmark.
More divisive is a scene depicting Paul Kinsey, in his late-night, booze-soaked search for inspiration, glancing at an old mock-up for a Marilyn Monroe/Jacqueline Kennedy ad. The scene implies he is inspired not for a creative breakthrough, but to engage in solitary sexual activity. This moment is likely to split audiences: some may view it as a raw, humanising detail of a flawed man’s loneliness and frustration; others may find it exploitative, gratuitous, or a cheap attempt to underscore his pathetic state. It highlights a recurring issue in later Mad Men: a tendency to occasionally trade nuanced observation for jarring, sensational character beats.
The Color Blue is a competently executed episode that suffers slightly from its overt resemblance to a superior predecessor. Its power derives from the enduring strength of its core mystery—Betty’s discovery—and from Jon Hamm’s masterful portrayal of a man trying, and largely failing, to outrun his ghosts. The episode’s willingness to show Don exercising a shred of decency towards Danny Farrell adds a welcome shade of grey. However, the more forced comedic elements and the palpable sense of narrative recycling suggest a series consciously stretching its material. This was a period of consolidation and quiet before the storm of November 1963. The Color Blue functions effectively as a chapter in that build-up, but it ultimately feels more like a skilful reprise of familiar notes than a wholly original composition. It proves that even the most meticulously crafted dramas can occasionally reveal the faintest ink of creative fatigue.
RATING: 7/10 (+++)
==
Blog in Croatian https://draxblog.com
Blog in English https://draxreview.wordpress.com/
InLeo blog https://inleo.io/@drax.leo
LeoDex: https://leodex.io/?ref=drax
InLeo: https://inleo.io/signup?referral=drax.leo
Hiveonboard: https://hiveonboard.com?ref=drax
1Inch: https://1inch.exchange/#/r/0x83823d8CCB74F828148258BB4457642124b1328e
BTC donations: 1EWxiMiP6iiG9rger3NuUSd6HByaxQWafG
ETH donations: 0xB305F144323b99e6f8b1d66f5D7DE78B498C32A7
BCH donations: qpvxw0jax79lhmvlgcldkzpqanf03r9cjv8y6gtmk9