Kevin and Mike have hit upon many of themes on display in Mad Men‘s mid-season finale. The episode was set in July 1969, inching us closer to the end of the turbulent decade in which Don Draper and his colleagues ruled the advertising world. Not unlike the John F. Kennedy assassination, the Apollo 11 moon landing presented Mad Men with a monumental moment in history in which to base a great episode of television.

Writers Carly Wray and Matthew Weiner did not miss their chance. “Waterloo” was, by far, the best episode we’ve seen in season 7, and it serves as a great midseason resting place before we pick the story back up next year.

We’ll surely miss Bert Cooper, won’t we? Just a few weeks ago, I was incensed at the man’s ugly implication that women of color shouldn’t be the public face of a company. Now, as Bert’s fate is forever sealed and connected to space exploration, I cannot help but think that Bert’s sentiments throughout the season — and over the course of the previous six — were nothing more than a sign of the times in which he lived, for better or worse.

While the Napoleon analogy was fitting, it was Bert’s simple utterance of “Bravo” that struck a chord in me. Here he was, a man who had devoted his entire working life to the world of advertisement, sitting on the couch listening to Neil Armstrong deliver the single greatest “catchphrase” of the 20th century. What else was there for Bert to say? Bravo, indeed.

Where other episodes this season have felt overly focused on one or two main characters, the midseason finale was the first one in which every main character was given something meaningful to say or do, and it was a delight to watch. The multiple-episode buildup to the Burger Chef pitch was executed perfectly. Realizing that he may still be a dead man walking, Don handed over the reigns to Peggy, his protege and, dare I say, his friend?

And Peggy delivered with a pitch unlike anything we’ve seen on the show since Don’s season 1 finale pitch to Kodak (still one of the best scenes of Mad Men ever produced). It seemed to me that there was a lot of closure in that Burger Chef scene. When Peggy gave Don that look, mid-pitch, and he nodded his head as if to say, “You got this,” it felt to me as if a torch had been passed.

Another torch that may have been passed is that of “leader” — from Bert to Roger. Just before he gave the Napoleon speech, Bert lobbed a truth bomb at Roger: he may be successful and charming, but unlike Bert, Roger is not a leader. In some sense, I think Roger agreed with that sentiment. But it still hurt to hear his mentor tell him that so bluntly. And it may very well have been that stinging rebuke that led Roger to once again seek out Jim Hobart from McCann Erickson and put in place yet another buyout of SC&P. Like many of the themes and character arcs in Mad Men, the “buyout/take over” is a storyline we’ve flirted with before — most notably when the company was almost sold to McCann at the end of season 3.

There seemed to be some urgency, though, to the move this time. Without Bert’s vote, Roger could not guarantee Don’s safety in the agency. Orchestrating the buyout from McCann allowed Roger to undercut Jim Cutler and his plan to oust Don. It also allowed Roger and the others to make a massive amount of money.

For an episode that culminated with an imaginary Bert Cooper singing about the best things in life being free, much of “Waterloo” was focused on money. Nowhere was this more evident than in the partners’ meeting Roger called to announce the possible buyout. Roger explained money as a primary factor in the sale. Joan and Pete nearly high-five each other to death at the prospect of their shares. Even Cutler ultimately voted for the deal, saying, “It’s a lot of money.” Maybe it’s not Don who needed that life-lesson song-and-dance from Mr. Cooper.

But ultimately, it was Don — fresh from talking a dejected, hesitant Ted Chaough into accepting the buyout — who was startled to hear, “Don, my boy,” in Bert’s unmistakable voice. We were treated to a short musical number, where a shoeless Bert serenaded Don with “The Best Things in Life are Free” before sauntering off and closing the door of his old office. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one left with a dropped jaw. I can’t imagine a riskier move for a show to take before a 10-month hiatus. But in addition to giving the wonderful Robert Morse a moment to shine, the song and its lyrics seemed to be a straightforward warning to Don: this buyout, and all of the money that will come with it, won’t fill the void. Embrace the free stuff.

Don’s road to redemption (who’s getting sick of that word?) seems to be moving swiftly, for sure. Yes, he will soon be twice-divorced, but his career prospects are once again red-hot. So what’s left?

When Breaking Bad took its final midseason hiatus, the show seemed to be working toward an inevitable climax: Walter White’s death. I don’t think the same can be said for this show. I have no doubt that Weiner has an endgame in mind, but all I can do is guess where he’s headed. And if this midseason finale is any indication, Mad Men — in a fitting tribute to the way the show has been executed for the better part of six seasons — will end not with a bang, but with a subtle, calculated, and soul-stirring whimper.

I think I’d be just fine with that.

A panel of viewers here at Curiata.com will engage in a roundtable discussion following each episode of Mad Men’s seventh and final season. Check back throughout the week for new entries in the series.

We only have one new episode left in the first half of Mad Men‘s final season, and if it is anywhere near the quality of last night’s episode, “The Strategy,” we should be in for a great mid-season finale.

After several episodes that seemed to wander somewhat aimlessly, “The Strategy” felt laser-focused on the idea of family. The episode brought almost everyone back to New York City (sorry, not you, Ted Chaough) and it was great to see some old faces back in the SC&P offices.

Bob Benson returned from Detroit eager to see Joan and Kevin. After he got the inside news that he would be getting an offer from Buick, Bob hurried along his plan to awkwardly propose to Joan. This was Bob trying to create a family even though he’s a gay man. Unfortunately, this was likely a common solution for some men in 1969. It still hurt to watch Bob try so hard. When he pleaded with Joan that they could be there to comfort each other through an uncertain world, I thought for a second that she might go along with his strategy. I should have known better — Joan has always been a true believer in real love.

Pete came back to New York with Bonnie in tow, presumably to get moving on that divorce from Trudy. It was interesting to watch Pete interact with his “family” again, still every bit the standoffish father and overpowering husband he has always been. His condescending lecture to Trudy was off-putting in pure Campbell form and led Trudy to tell Pete he was no longer a member of the family. I think that was a tough one for Pete to swallow, but still, that is no reason to ruin a perfectly good cake by smashing your beer bottle into it.

Another family that seems a step closer to falling apart is the Draper family. Don and Megan spent a good deal of time together in this episode, but it felt hollow and forced. The only display that didn’t feel like a total sham was when Don embraced Megan on the patio. “Tell me you didn’t miss this,” he told her. She claimed to have missed him, but I don’t know that I believe either of them anywhere. Megan was home under the auspices of getting summer clothes, but her rummaging through the house implied that she was there to get other things, maybe all of her things. I’m left to wonder if Megan will ever see the inside of that spacious apartment again.

Even with everyone else on the show dealing with their own family issues, it was Peggy’s storyline in “The Strategy” that seemed to really hit home. Finally given the chance to see an ad through to the end, Peggy gave a great presentation for Burger Chef to Pete, Lou, and Don. But after Pete not-so-subtly suggested that Don give the actual pitch to the client, Peggy was rightfully upset. She first lashed out at Don and then — as has often been the case lately — she went into the office on the weekend to find another ad strategy. I think we’re supposed to see that Peggy doesn’t have much else to do on the weekend; it’s a mixture of not having anyone at home and a sense that if she isn’t always working, she’ll be overlooked just because she’s a woman.

I loved Elizabeth Moss’ work in this episode. There were so many moments where she spoke volumes without even opening her mouth. Peggy is constantly running uphill in this agency, and by the time she and Don sit down to hash out a new ad strategy, she is overcome with feelings of longing and regret. That great scene in the office last night — reminiscent of my single favorite Mad Men episode: Season 4’s “The Suitcase” — was perfectly executed. Peggy worked through her own doubts and demons to come to a realization: family is what you make it.

In 1969, the world had changed so dramatically that the idea of a “traditional family” was just a matter of semantics. More than anything, people just want to sit at a table and break bread together. And then, as if the scene wasn’t great enough, we heard the familiar sounds of Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” on the radio in the office. Don extended a hand to ask Peggy to dance. She first demurred but then accepted, and together they danced like a couple that had been together for all of time. When Peggy finally rested her head on Don’s chest, and he in turn kissed the top of her head, it felt as if we had witnessed Don’s most genuine display of emotion in years. And it’s always Peggy with whom he shares these things. Hmmm.

Finally, Peggy and Don took a dejected Pete to Burger Chef to pitch their new idea and the plan to shoot the ad in the restaurant. He was dismissive at first and clung to a belief that family could only gather at home, around the dinner table. Something that Pete himself hadn’t done in years. Peggy and Don convinced him otherwise.

As the camera slowly pulled back for that last, beautiful shot, we were able to just watch the three of them break bread together, and we were left with the clear understanding that this might be the best family that any one of them had ever known.

R.I.P., Ginsberg’s nipple. We hardly knew ye.

As Mike mentioned in his great analysis, Mad Men‘s fifth season 7 episode, “The Runaways,” was a wild one.

The rise and gurney-assisted fall of Michael Ginsberg was only the second or third most shocking development in this episode. His overstated objection to the SC&P computer last week gave way to full-blown paranoia this week, and we’re left to wonder if we’ll ever see Ginsberg again. I didn’t know what was coming when he entered Peggy’s office just two days after he crashed her apartment, claimed the computer was turning everyone “homo,” and tried to force himself on her.

The boxed delivery of his nipple was more upsetting than humorous. It is no longer possible to think of Ginsberg as eccentric; he’s clearly lost his grip on reality. It may have been a little heavy-handed to so closely tie Ginsberg’s fight for relevance with the arrival of the computer, but it worked nonetheless.

I also enjoyed the twist of discovering that Ginsberg did see Lou Avery and Jim Cutler engaging in some hijinks (planning a secret pitch meeting with Philip Morris). It just wasn’t the kind of hijinks Ginsberg suspected. Still, I suspect our time with Ginsberg has come to end, and I will miss him.

The discovery of Lou’s comic, Scout’s Honor, in the SC&P copier machine was one of those great Mad Men scenarios that comes along at least once a season. As soon as Stan found the copy, we knew we were in for a humorous detour from the sometimes depressing stories that inhabit this show. What was surprising was Lou’s outrage upon being outed by a bunch of “flag-burning snots.” Don hit it on the head when he chided Lou for having too-thin skin. I almost thought for a second that this episode would shed some sympathetic light on Mr. Avery, but it did no such thing for me. He arrogantly and dismissively treated his subordinates like ungrateful children and even made Don miss his flight to California. The nerve!

Don was in a hurry to get to California (is it the first time we’ve said that?) because his “niece,” Stephanie, had resurfaced: pregnant, broke, hungry for meat. Don told Megan to take care of Stephanie until he arrived. I was actually impressed with Megan’s willingness to help; there was genuine concern there, even if it didn’t last long. I feel for Megan. I still think her time with Don is coming to an end, and last night’s episode furthered my suspicions.

There were a lot of great scenes where Jessica Paré expressed her non-verbal frustrations with life and with Don, and those were a highlight of the episode for me. When Stephanie claimed to know all of Don’s secrets, Megan’s face immediately expressed so many thoughts at once: jealousy, contempt, sadness. She was quick to cut Stephanie a check and get her the hell out of her house.

So this set up an interesting juxtaposition: Megan scrambles to get one woman out of Don’s life and then turns around and invites yet another woman into their bedroom. The moment everyone is talking about is the threesome between Don, Megan, and “Amy from Delaware.” The scene was shocking, not only by AMC’s relatively tame television standards but also because of what it implied for the characters.

We spent a majority of the episode watching Megan try to comfort Don, trying to play the role of dutiful wife. In the bedroom scene, Megan dispensed of subtlety altogether. She knows her husband will never be cured of his desire for women, so she tries to give Don what she thinks Don wants. It’s not until the next awkward morning, after Don tells Megan that he needs to leave town and after he quickly gets on the phone with Stephanie, that Megan seems to come to the full realization that nothing she does — or will do — is going to change the way Don looks at her. He has become a man simply biding time in his marriage.

I loved the scene of Don crashing the clandestine meeting between Lou and Jim and the reps from Philip Morris. Don turns it up to 11 to make Roger Morris a pitch that will very likely make or break the remainder of his tenure at SC&P. And for a moment — a glorious and welcomed moment — the ad man in Don Draper returned in full force.

“You’re incredible,” Lou told him afterward. I’m still not sure if that was to be a compliment, an insult, or a bit of both. Think about it: that was almost surely the first time Lou ever saw Don give a pitch, and he gave it wonderfully. But in the process, he threw Lou under the bus. So you can imagine that Lou might have been both impressed and pissed off. Either way, it’s clear that Jim was the latter. He hissed his line at Don as he got into the cab:

“You think this is going to save you, don’t you?”

Yes, Don does.

And so do I.

Game of Thrones (HBO)
Where to binge: All four seasons available on HBO GO

God, this show is exhausting. And I mean that as a compliment.

Watching three seasons of Game of Thrones in less than a month is one of the crowning achievements in my Binge Watch-ing history. It’s not that I haven’t watched more shows in less time (looking at you, all five seasons of Friday Night Lights), it’s just that watching a single episode of Game of Thrones feels akin to reading a 1,000-page novel written in a foreign tongue. This is dense, sweeping material, spread across multiple lands and told in multiple variations of European accents.

And yet, with each passing episode, the viewer gets drawn in by the show — slowly, almost begrudgingly at the start, as you wade through the first several hours of season 1. These are the episodes in which you’re introduced to the various tribes and clans that inhabit Westeros, author George R.R. Martin‘s sprawling country made semi-famous in A Song of Ice and Fire, the on-going book series of which Martin has so far penned five of a planned seven books.

The names, faces, and places come at a relentless pace during the first season: King’s Landing, the House of Lannister, Winterfell, Daenerys Stormborn Targaryen, and many others. These are also the episodes that will make or break your interest in GoT. If you can weather the early storm, you’ll be rewarded.

As the first season moves along, the show slows its pace and allows you to visit each land and learn the backstory of each character. Admittedly, some of these lands and stories are more interesting than others. If you’re a fan of king-and-queen drama, you’ll love the intrigue and deception surrounding King Robert Baratheon and his wife, Cersei Lannister. If you enjoy gladiator-esque sword play, there’s plenty of that from the Starks, the family in charge of Westeros’ northern city, Winterfell.

Stark family patriarch, Lord Eddard “Ned” Stark, serves as a de facto main character in season 1 and, as portrayed by the perfectly-bearded Sean Bean, Ned is about as morally righteous a character as there is on GoT. It’s interesting to see how morally righteous characters get “ahead” on this show. Regardless, the show knows that it’s a marathon, not a race, and head writers David Benioff and D.B. Weiss do a fantastic job of luring the viewer into this expansive world.

To even try to synthesize all of the goings-on in the various plot lines that make up GoT would require another four Binge Watch columns: the show is never devoid of “stuff happening.” After a few episodes, it becomes easier to follow the action, but it is interesting to note how the show chooses to unfold its action. GoT is the most densely-plotted series I can recall, yet its storytelling trajectory is actually quite short. Most of the stories told on GoT are spread across multiple seasons, and when you’re watching them in big chunks, it becomes clear that this show actually moves at a snail’s pace.

I have not read any of the Martin series, but those who have read the books know that, as GoT entered its fourth season, less than three books’ worth of Martin’s material had been used so far. Still, from what has been reported of season 4, the show does seem to be picking up speed. That presents GoT with a difficult — and, I believe, unique — problem: what happens when the show catches up with Martin’s writing? (Please feel free to make your next Internet stop right here.)

Some episodes feel painstakingly slow, there’s no denying that. But this is a minor complaint, and one that might not even register with most viewers. If the worst thing said about a show is that it takes its time to establish strong, yet morally ambiguous, characters and tell vivid, often-jaw-droppingly-surprising stories, then I’d say the show is doing just fine.

After three seasons, I feel confident saying that GoT is certainly one of the more enjoyable shows on television right now. But as hype continues to build — the season 4 premiere was the show’s most watched episode to date — where does the show rank among the greats? It’s still too early to tell.

What I do know is that few shows have ever felt this epic, and I mean that literally and not in the way the word is bandied about in most writings. Over the first several seasons, GoT has been shot in countless locations, across multiple countries: Croatia, Morocco, Ireland, Iceland, Malta, and Scotland. These locations give breadth and substance to almost every scene. The show feels huge, and I think that lends itself toward a feeling of grandeur for the series overall. I will need to see where Martin goes with the story — and how the show runners tell that story — before I try to rank this one with the greats.

Still, if you haven’t taken the plunge into the world of Westeros, Game of Thrones is highly-recommended. For binge-watching purposes, two or three episodes at a clip is the most you’re likely to get in on one night. The material is heavy and often harrowing, and for that reason, I suggest you pace yourself.

Season 4 of Game of Thrones is currently airing Sundays at 9 p.m. EDT on HBO.

A panel of viewers here at Curiata.com will engage in a roundtable discussion following each episode of Mad Men’s seventh and final season. Check back throughout the week for new entries in the series.

The future has arrived on Mad Men in the form of a giant IBM computer that takes up the space once inhabited by SC&P’s creative team. Episode 7.4 was called “The Monolith” and it was filled with the sounds of progress: saws screeching, hammers pounding, men working. The future also looked a lot like Don working for Peggy, crawling his way back up from the top. And for a show that has always been overly symbolic, this episode felt especially full of foreshadowing.

We find Don Draper almost self-sabotaging his career yet again, before Freddy Rumsen, of all people, pulls him back from the abyss, gets him home to the couch to sober up, and then gives him one of the great pep talk/reprimands in Mad Men history: “Just do the work, Don,” Freddy tells his sad, drunken colleague.

Don’s plunge back into the bottle at work comes after (we’re told) three weeks of office sobriety and extreme boredom. It’s clear that Don is the dead man walking, working in a dead man’s office. He has no work and he doesn’t seem to be making connections with his former employees. When he is finally given something to do, he gets placed on Peggy’s team to write copy for Burger Chef, a national fast food restaurant. I was surprised to see that my prediction of Don one day working for Peggy has come to fruition so quickly. Shame on me for thinking Matthew Weiner and company would wait until the end of the series to hit us with this role reversal.

To say Don doesn’t take it well would be an understatement. When Peggy assigns him 25 tags to write over the weekend, Don storms out of her office, into his own, and then throws his typewriter against the window. For years, Don was the one in control, the man asking for others’ weekend work. Now that he has been left to wither away by the other partners, it’s Don taking orders. He finds a Mets pennant under the radiator of the office while fishing for a dropped cigarette. Lane’s favorite team.

Here’s another instance of Mad Men being more literal than symbolic in this episode: the 1969 New York Mets defied all odds, rising from the gutters of baseball’s standings to win the World Series. Victory snatched from the jaws of not only defeat, but despair. Sounds a lot like our boy, Don. This allusion to the ’69 Mets left me with the striking suspicion that Don’s ending may not be the tragedy everyone suspects. And even if it is suspected, do people want to see Don’s story end badly? I’m not convinced that I do.

We usually save these kinds of TV Character Death Wishes for anti-heroes, for broken men like Walter White, Vic Mackey, or Tony Soprano. These are the characters that deserve demise because of legitimate holes in their moral fabric. Yet when I see Don wading painfully through the first few episodes of Mad Men‘s final season, I don’t see a bad man. Yes, he’s a drunk. He’s a womanizer, a terrible husband, and an average father. But Don Draper deserves some kind of happy ending. This episode was the strongest indication yet that he may get it.

The other not-too-subtle subplot this week involved Roger and Mona hitting the road to bring back their daughter, now going by the name Marigold, who has abandoned her family and joined a commune. Roger, who we’ve seen mingling with hippies many times this season, seems much more comfortable at the commune than Mona does. After his ex-wife storms away in the car, Roger even spends the night there with his daughter. They shared a great scene staring up at the stars, just Roger and his little girl.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Roger awoke to find his daughter sneaking away with some guy. That must have been the final straw for Roger’s patience; when morning came, he literally tried to drag Marigold back home. She fumed at him. He asked how she could leave her family, leave her boy without a mother. She fumed back at him — how could he have left her everyday by “going to work”? How could he have had his assistant pick out all of Marigold’s presents as a child? Roger left defeated. I’m not sure it was Mad Men’s most poignant comparison, but for Roger, it appeared to really hit home.

One last thought: Why the hell is Bert Cooper so mad at Don? I cannot figure this out. It can’t still be Hershey’s, can it? If business is booming and creative is working like a well-oiled machine even in Don’s absence, why is Bert still so full of vitriol? The scene where he callously compares Don to the dead man whose office he now occupies was jarring.

One of Kevin’s questions — what was the point of the Betty Francis story arc — seems to be the most pressing issue to come out of Mad Men 7.3. The scenes with Betty and Bobby were frustrating in their blandness. It’s a stretch to find much meaning in any of those scenes, but Kevin’s comparison of Bobby to a young Dick Whitman, and Betty to Don’s childhood caretakers, seems apt.

More than anything, I was frustrated at the continued waste of potential for the Betty character. January Jones has always taken her lumps for her portrayal of the former Draper family matriarch. But since her and Don’s divorce, Betty has had almost no meaningful story to tell. The ill-fated weight gain story arc from a few seasons ago was as laughable as the (digital?) fat suit required to show it. The only time I’ve been interested in Betty as a character was when she and Don briefly rekindled their relationship while out of town visiting Bobby’s camp.

I’m left to wonder if this show has anything left in the tank for Ms. Francis. I assume we’ll continue to plod through a few more painstaking episodes about her lack of maternal nature. Sadly, it’s a pretty tired storyline.

This episode did bring us the return of something I had missed: Don in the workplace. His awkward visit to SC&P, culminating with a caveat-filled return to duty, felt like the freshest breath of the season so far. I’m enjoying the slow-burn pace of the season, but let’s get to it: we need to see Don back in action!

He didn’t have much to do once there, as Roger didn’t feel it necessary to show up at the office before noon or tell any of the other partners about Don’s imminent return. It was fun to see Don’s brief interaction with Lou, and now that we know Don will be reporting to SC&P’s newest creative director, I can’t wait to see how it unfolds.

We know Don will take up space in Lane Pryce’s old office. I thought that was a particularly cold move by the remaining partners and surely, as Kevin mentioned, the red herrings could soon be flying as we’re left to wonder if Don is headed down the same road as our dear, departed Lane.

I still don’t think so. Don’s road to redemption has been bumpy and I’m still not sure if that’s the direction he’s headed. But there is still hope. The drinking has slowed. The womanizing has, too; we actually see Don in this episode take a pass on a string-free rendezvous with a mysterious blond at a restaurant. If you’re keeping score, that’s two women who’ve thrown themselves unsuccessfully at Don this season — maybe the man really is changing!

I thought Don showed some maturity by flying to California to check in on Megan, but that didn’t go very well. I think the writing is on the wall for that couple. Divorce is in the cards. I just fear that, with Megan’s increasingly erratic behavior, she may be the one to hit rock bottom long before Don does.

Kevin nailed it with the Sally/Don stuff. The scenes with Sally and Don felt earned and genuine. The showstopper “I love you” scene was a fitting and surprisingly touching end to their road trip.

I’m skeptical, though, that Don is any further along on his road to redemption. Let’s remember that, for a man seeking forgiveness and change, Don drank A LOT in this episode. Note the marking of the liquor bottle and then the lunch with Dave. Don is still putting them back and I fear that he isn’t on the road to recovery as much as the gooey stuff with Sally would have us believe and hope.

This was one of those great slow burn episodes that Mad Men is both loved and hated for. Here it works. If you think about it, there’s a lot going on in this episode:

Roger (nice to see you outside of a hotel room) is slowly losing to Jim whatever decision power he has left. You can tell he is feeling less and less valuable in every aspect of his life.

The same can’t be said for Joan, who is movin’ on up to the office upstairs reserved for an “Accounts Man.” This, for me, was just as satisfying as Sally’s “I love you” scene. Joan deserves this, regardless of what a bitter Roger thinks.

Dawn and Shirley, perhaps the only two African American employees at SC&P, did more to highlight the racial strife of 1969 in this one episode than in any Mad Men I can remember. Their break room routine — where they called each other by the other’s name — humorously and yet sadly pointed out that no one in the office sees a difference between them.

And can we agree that Lou Avery is the worst? I’ll give him credit that it wasn’t his job to explain Don’s absence to Sally, but still, this guy could not be more condescending, sexist, or racist if he tried. Speaking of racist, it may have been an unfortunately common sentiment at the time, but Bertram Cooper’s order to remove Dawn from the front desk actually caused me to wince at the screen. I wonder if they purposely picked one of the firm’s more pleasant partners to make that stinging remark?

I thought the episode flowed well. The funny scenes with the conference call seemed to fit nicely between the heavier scenes, a lot of which dealt with the show’s regular, weightier themes.

It remains to be seen where Don moves next in all of this. We know now that Don has eyes and ears inside of the office, and if you add this to Freddy, who is his mouth, he’s got an entire head in the office at SC&P. I’m still not sure, though, where it gets him. The office seems to be moving along just fine in his absence.

As for Don’s home life, we’re left to wonder. When asked by Sally if he still loves Megan, Don gave one of those “of course” answers that felt patently untrue. Sure, he’s bonding now with his daughter, but will it last? It’s Mad Men, so probably not.

Fantastic points, Mike and Kevin!

What an interesting theory that the show will ultimately be Sally Draper’s. I’m not sure how I feel about that. Sad. Angry. Possibly lied to? I need to swirl this around a little bit. Although I’m not ready to concede that Don was, is, and shall forever be the center of the show. Yes, it took a few minutes for him to physically show up in the season premiere, but remember, he was operating Freddy Rumsen like a marionette in that opening scene, so in essence, Don was with us.

I think we could get a better sense of this theory once we finally meet Season 7 Sally. I am very curious, and hopeful that it will happen in the next episode. As it seems to go in the last few seasons (although I haven’t re-watched all lately), it seems to take a few episodes for Betty and the kids (and Francis) to show up. I find this curious as I’m every bit as interested in the Draper kids as I am the people who populate SC&P. Of course, we could all be wrong and the show will belong to Baby Gene.

I had forgotten about the Megan-being-killed-off theories. Thanks for the reminder. There is always a fear/thought that main characters will be killed, but to me it never felt like Mad Men’s m.o. However, that was before the painful and untimely Season 5 death of Lane Pryce, a man of basic moral integrity who made a series of small mistakes and paid the ultimate price. Bert Cooper seems a fit for the next death, both as the oldest character in the story and as a partner in the firm, ripe for replacement. But I’m not sold yet.

Amid Don’s continuing swim upstream and Cooper’s natural aging, we have Roger. For me, his current tailspin is every bit as dangerous and damaging as the one being experienced by Don. Roger is losing his grip on his needy, passive-aggressive daughter, losing his grip on his illegitimate son with Joan (although this remains to be played out), and seemingly losing grip on his place in the world. Was there a scene in the first episode more depressing that Roger, dejected and drunk after a brunch with his daughter, stumbling into bed with two strangers? I wouldn’t rule out Roger’s demise as these finals episodes play out.

Oh Freddy. What a return! The man spends the first few minutes of Mad Men’s seventh season pitching the hell out of a watch commercial. He’s clear, concise, and delivers maybe the best pitch of his career. We’re now a little more familiar with a clean and concise Freddy — he quit the bottle years ago after that unfortunate pants-soiling incident. But it was the “best pitch of his career” thing that really threw us for a jolt last night.

Of course, by episode’s end we get the truth: Don Draper, on indefinite leave from SC&P, has been feeding Freddy ideas all over town. Even as he battle his bi-coastal demons, Don shows he’s still the best in the business. But after the first episode of the year, one is left to wonder the end game: how exactly does boosting Freddy’s profile get Don back into SC&P? Is that even his goal?

This was the kind of season premiere that Mad Men does really well. Not all the players are on the field, but all of the important ones are in the mix, and we quickly get a sense that not much has changed in the two months since Don was asked to take a break. We got our time stamp on the episode — Richard Nixon’s January 20, 1969, inauguration — and I still am unsure we’ll ever to see Don in the 1970s.

As we get close to the end (and mid-2015 won’t feel close by the time we get there), the most pressing question, of course, is what will happen to Don Draper. Like one of TV’s other recent great characters, Rust Cohle from True Detective, I’m not convinced Don has the constitution for suicide. We’ve seen the falling man in the opening credits for years now, but that has always struck me as more a symbolic fall than a literal one. And it’s safe to say Don has made that symbolic fall many times over the years and is likely in the middle of his latest, deepest free fall. As he walked onto the balcony in the last scene, Don looked as low as we’ve ever seen him — drunk, defeated, alone.

I sense that’s a theme we’ll see highlighted in the first several episodes, but I expect some kind of resurgence for Mr. Draper. The last episode of season 6 included a lot of honesty from Don: the post-pitch childhood story he told the Hershey execs; the family trip to that dilapidated whorehouse where he grew up. I think there’s still morality somewhere buried deep in Don even if he wonders aloud in the airplane if he’s broken. Surely, but not necessarily irrevocably.

A scene that struck me last night was when Don was on the red-eye back to New York. He passes up what is sure to be a successful rendezvous with a beautiful stranger (looking at you, Neve Campbell), and as soon as he verbally ditches her and things get awkward, he opens the airplane’s window blind and sees the light — blinding sunlight announcing a new day, perhaps?

It was nice to catch up with Pete in Los Angeles (nice pants!), Roger in the midst of a (drug-fueled?) binge of sexual awakening and parental turmoil, and Megan, who seems as successful and completely discontent as we’ve ever seen her. It’s great to see Joan being assertive and trying to clean up others’ messes, but I’m hoping we get to see some genuine advancement for her character this year. After all of these years serving others and sacrificing so much, Joan deserves to be rewarded with a full-time ad job at the firm — or an initial on the logo even?

And what of Peggy Olson. She’s struggling to figure out Lou, Don’s dreary replacement at SC&P, as well as how to be a slumlord. Her breakdown at the end of the episode was powerful: a woman who is so tired of getting the short end of the stick. I also expect that Peggy turns a corner here. My theory has always been that the show will end with Don working for Peggy; with everyone working for Peggy. The first episode of this season implies that she has a long way to go, but something tells me she’ll get there.

Binge Watch is a new, collaborative column in which our contributors take turns recounting a season (or several seasons) of a series that they have just binge-watched. We begin with the first two seasons of HBO’s Veep.

Veep (HBO)
Where to binge: Seasons 1 and 2 available on HBO On Demand

Until last week, Veep lived comfortably in my mind’s “I’ll Get To It Eventually TV” world. It had a nice house right beside Game of Thrones, The Good Wife, and the old crotchety neighbor down the street, The Wire. This is a place made up of all of the shows my friends and family have been raving about for years, but I’ve long neglected due to time (or interest) restraints.

Over the course of just a few days, my wife and I devoured the two seasons of HBO’s critically-acclaimed comedy gem, Veep. Of course, the only problem is that once you’ve seen a show like this, you instantly become another voice in the annoying choir singing to the high-heavens that everyone must watch this show! So, at least you’ve been warned.

Veep marks another chapter in the television run of Seinfeld and New Adventures of Old Christine vet Julia Louis-Dreyfus as Selina Meyer, a former U.S. senator who runs for president, suffers an embarrassing and as-yet-unexplained public embarrassment, and “settles” for becoming vice president. The show follows the Veep as she interacts with Washington, D.C., politicians and lobbyists and tries to manage her increasingly semi-incompetent staff. The ongoing riffs about the Veep’s insecurity and often overlooked political prowess are what drives most of the jokes in any given episode.

In a role tailored perfectly to her comedic stylings, Dreyfus is a delight, bouncing back and forth between playing a wounded politico and confident (vice) leader of the world. Whether she’s ripping into one of her assistants or, in the show’s best running gag, asking each day if the president has called for her (spoiler: he hasn’t), Dreyfus handles each line reading as if it were her own stand-up routine. And amazingly, in Dreyfus’ hands, the trials and tribulations of a vice president actually seem relatable: she’s a single mother of a college-aged daughter trying to figure things out. She just has to do all of this while overseeing the rescue of American hostages in foreign countries.

The story lines from the first two seasons have been all over the map: Veep uses her daughter’s birthday party to stage a budget negotiation, Veep gives her support to Israel while standing in front of a roasting pig at a North Carolina barbecue, etc. But this tactic also keeps the viewer invested in Selina and her circle. That circle, including My Girl’s Anna Chlumsky as chief of staff and Arrested Development vet Tony Hale as bag man, is turning into one of TV’s best ensembles. The ongoing story line about Mike the Press Secretary’s financial troubles provides consistent laughs over the first two seasons, and Hale — affectionately remembered for his portrayal of Buster Bluth — is the star of almost every scene he’s in.

Where does Veep stand in the history of TV comedies? Too early to tell. But this one feels right. Drawing inspiration from some great shows like Curb Your Enthusiasm, Party Down, and the aforementioned Arrested Development, Veep seems to be moving full-speed ahead. As with all binge watches, it’ll be difficult to stomach the week-to-week wait for new episodes now that I’m caught up. But I plan to be there each step of the way.

Veep returns for season 3 on Sunday, April 6, on HBO.