Okay, I am a movie addict. I like a bare bones story speeding by frame by frame revealing itself by suggestion. What a great word for it,
huh? “Mov-ie.” Somehow cookie, druggie, bookie, not even hottie comes close to the cleverness of that word, for me.
Anyway, we can learn stuff from movies, like from any good
stories, if they’re worth the time, effort, and celluloid it took to make them. But my own personal jury is still out in the case of Madmen. I did not see this series on cable TV. (I don’t subscribe.) I had to look up its Web site to find out it’s in its 5th season
and it has won a boatload of awards.
Part Fugitive,
part Route 66, and part telenovela, Madmen is
a weekly peek-a-boo into the personalities, pathologies, relationships, and
tawdry beddings and betrayals of men and women who promote product for one purpose,
that purpose being money. This is New York City advertising a la 1960s, and the
name of the game is tapping human desire using glamour, sex, the need to feel
loved, humor for levity, risk for thrill, and cruelty just because, to convince
people they need stuff they don’t need. It’s as true today as it was
yesterday, only the products and media have changed.
A Madmen episode here
and there really does hit on zeitgeist and story. Mostly, though, Madmen
fairly makes me wretch, which may be the intention. Like the
musical theme accompanying the introductory graphic of the man falling,
falling, from the skyscraper, these made for TV characters are dark and spooky as dollhouse sleepwalkers.
The mishappen fundamentally irresponsible male antihero is
apparently popular on cable TV these days. This sleazy but
charismatic, high rolling con guy makes money and women in almost equal proportions, along with,
occasionally, some good guy gestures.
To its credit this series is smart writing, in itself
an addictive telenovela even whilst it contains the very stuff of addictive personalities
and lifestyles. The characters are self-destructing and they seem
to know it. They drink booze whenever they're awake. They spend more time at the office
than at home. They sleep around. They eat red meat in restaurants with draperies,
chandeliers, and leather booths. They drink more
booze. They ooze glamour. And the slicker they are, the better the
con. These ultimate consumers sell their own lifestyle to American
consumers. They create the standard. They are the pacesetters of consumer culture. They think just enough, they are just
self-analytical enough, somewhere between shallow and less shallow, to know
people’s basic instincts.
There are interesting episodes. I won’t list them. They’re all on your local video store shelf and probably also downloadable. Check the public library. They had all four seasons at the one near me. You can play in any Madmen puddle you want.
I will say this: Madmen strikes
a nerve in more ways than one, probably especially with baby boomers on account of its authentic 1960s trappings—all things
material from furnishings to cars to fashion to products. It treats sixties gender inequalities
and child rearing practices thematically, though it gives short shrift to racial tension and historical events.
But mainly I think this telenovela addicts. Its purpose, after all, is to keep viewers coming back for more so they will see more ads. To that end a typical season builds to calamity. As if charm and duplicity in an antihero with animal magnetism who thinks about the right thing to do but doesn't do it isn't enough to hold our attention.
On a more lighthearted note, maybe this supplies its fans with water cooler fodder, I don't know. Does anybody work in offices anymore? because, like it or not, Madmen achieves what telenovelas do best, which is keep fans wondering what's going to happen next.