Tag: Mad Men

Finally Some Good Freaking Drama: Why “Industry” Is The Best Show On TV

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Finally, some good TV. MAX, the artist formerly known as HBO, is back to dominating my Sunday nights with its highly addictive, highly stressful brand of terrific television.

After
The Idol flopped so badly, I worried that MAX wouldn’t ever live up to its glory days. But Industry, which was a compelling quarantine-watch that I feared might fizzle out in its third season, has proven itself to be the streamer’s latest juggernaut — and possibly one of the best shows of the year.

Move over prestige period dramas and fantasy epics – the hottest show of the fall is all about the cutthroat world of high finance. HBO’s
Industry has quietly become must-see TV for its potent cocktail of ambition, excess, and anxiety that capitalizes on our love for “eat the rich” dramas.

It’s like
Succession and The White Lotus had a baby, except instead of the quiet comedy of the former or the slow, sleepy thrill of the latter, Industry is an anxiety-inducing feat of stress and success. While The Bear’s third season was just a flash in the pan, thanks in no small part to its immediate release of all of its episodes, Industry is coming out one episode at a time and really allowing us to sit in the stress it creates. And I love every second of it.

Industry, like all the beloved shows du jour, revels in depicting the bad behavior of the obscenely wealthy. But unlike overly didactic versions of this like Blink Twice or even Don’t Worry Darling,Industry follows a cohort of young finance hopefuls, exploring how a generation raised on social media and economic instability navigates the rarified air of high finance. The result is a show that feels both timeless in its examination of power and greed and painfully specific to our current cultural moment.

What is Industry about?

Simply put,
Industry is about investment banking. But what an antidote to the “looking for a man in finance” song that went viral this summer. If these are the men in finance, keep them away from me! Industry follows a group of analysts at Pierpont, a fictional London investment bank. But it spins all stereotypes on their head.

There’s the spoiled
nepo-baby heiress Yasmin (Marisa Abela); the prototypical Oxford boy who turns out to be a sensitive scholarship kid; Rob (Harry Lawtey), the privileged Nigerian golden boy suffering from disillusionment; Gus (David Jonsson); and our main anti-hero Harper (Myha’la), a Black woman from a state school who is both a prodigy and a fish out of water.

Now in its third season,
Industry has solidified its place as the rightful heir to the anti-hero drama throne once occupied by titans like Mad Men and The Sopranos. But instead of 1960s ad men or New Jersey mobsters, we’re following viscous Gen-Z frenemies It’s a world of obscene wealth, ruthless competition, and morally bankrupt decision-making. And though Harper, — called a “diminutive Black woman” in a recent episode — might seem the opposite of my beloved yet deeply flawed Don Draper, she’s a talented outsider struggling to make it in a world of wealth. And talk about an underdog we hate to love rooting for.

The cast makes each of their characters so compelling we can’t look away — even when they’re making a trainwreck of their lives. Myha’la anchors the show with her complex portrayal of Harper Stern, bringing a fierce intelligence and vulnerability to a character who could easily have become a caricature in less capable hands. Marisa Abela’s Yasmin Kara-Hanani has become a fan-favorite for her portrayal of a woman navigating the intersection of wealth, privilege, and gender politics in the boys’ club of finance. “I got a surprisingly large gay following,” she says in one of her opening scenes this season — and I get it.

But it’s not just the charm and quotable quips. What sets
Industry apart is its unrelenting pace and frenetic energy. In an era where prestige TV often favors measured storytelling and slow burns, Industry hits like a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart. Honestly, it shares more DNA with the anxiety-inducing rhythms of The Bear with an upper-class flair.

Admittedly, the middle of the second season dragged. And with all the finance jargon and plotlines heavily contingent on the ups and downs of the market, sometimes it’s tough to follow. Sometimes I call up my friends who are deep in the trenches at Goldman or J.P. Morgan to simply translate whatever I just saw — and to provide a lens on what’s
actually realistic. I worried that the third season would let me down. But instead, it ratcheted up the show to a level of intensity that shows Industry at its best.

Watch the Industry Season 3 trailer here:

Why Industry Season 3 is a game changer

This latest season doubles down on the show’s stress-inducing tendencies, with the most recent episode drawing comparisons to the Safdie brothers’
Uncut Gems for its relentless tension. The last time I was this stressed watching an episode of television was during The Bear season 2’s famous episode “Fishes.” If you know, you know that episode was a departure from the Season’s quiet meditations on its characters. It was the epitome of a chaotic family Christmas. And it was critically acclaimed for a reason. Similarly, White Mischief breaks from the narrative to focus on giving us heart palpitations.

Rishi has been a character on the sidelines who delivers some of the best — though sometimes pretty vile — one-liners. But in this episode, we get an unprecedented spotlight on Rishi as he navigates an even more chaotic Christmas than Carmy’s family. From work to home and back again, the episode takes us through a harrowing 48-hour period of gambling, drugs, and increasingly risky trades. And though it takes such a narrow focus compared to other episodes of the show, this episode exemplifies everything that makes
Industry so addictive.

Season 3 has upped the ante considerably, with the addition of Kit Harington (of
Game of Thrones fame) as an unstable — and perpetually shirtless — tech CEO disrupting the lives of our beloved Pierpoint characters.

But what exactly is the point of
Industry, beyond giving viewers weekly panic attacks over concepts they barely understand? At its core, the show is an examination of ambition and its costs — literally and metaphorically. Through its characters’ struggles and their differing axes of identity — the rich trying to get richer and the poor trying to be just like them — it asks how far we’re willing to go to succeed in a system that may be rigged from the start. Through its ensemble of deeply flawed but magnetic characters, Industry explores the toxic allure of power and wealth and the toll it takes on those who pursue it relentlessly.

As we head further into Season 3, fans are on the edge of their seats to see how the various plot threads will interweave and resolve. Will Harper’s risky plays pay off and allow her to rebuild the glory she tasted for a moment at Pierpont, or will her house of cards finally come crashing down? Can Yasmin successfully navigate the minefield of office politics and her complicated personal life? And where the hell
is her father? Will Harry get his emotions under control and deal with his grief instead of drinking it away? And just how long can Rishi’s luck hold out before everything implodes spectacularly?

I mean, we all saw the ending of
Uncut Gems…

These questions — combined with the show’s sharp dialogue and on rushing pacing — have made
Industry appointment-television for all of us who tuned in to watch Succession and White Lotus. It’s the kind of show that demands to be watched in real-time, lest you fall behind on the water cooler — or, more accurately, Slack channel — discussions the next day. In a television landscape often dominated by IP-driven content and safe bets, Industry feels fresh and unpredictable.

The week between each episode feels unbearable. But if you’re like me, the best way to distract yourself from the wait between good TV episodes is to watch
more good TV.

Now, if you like
Industry, you’ll like these shows — and vice versa. From timeless rewatches to new favorites, this is what I’m watching while waiting for the next episode of Industry.

1. Mad Men

For the
Industry fan craving another dose of high-stakes professional drama, Mad Men is the ideal binge. Set in the cutthroat world of 1960s advertising — March 1960 to November 1970 — this AMC classic shares Industry‘s fascination with ambition, power, and the moral compromises we make in pursuit of success.

Jon Hamm’s Don Draper is the OG antihero who paved the way for
Industry’s morally ambiguous leading characters. Like Harper Stern navigating Pierpoint’s treacherous waters, Draper’s journey from mysterious outsider to advertising titan is a masterclass in reinvention and survival. Mad Men may swap Industry‘s glass-and-steel offices for wood paneling and cigarette smoke, but the underlying tensions feel remarkably familiar. Both shows excel at exploring workplace dynamics, gender politics, and the psychic toll of constant performance.

With 16 Emmys and universal critical acclaim,
Mad Men set the gold standard for prestige TV. Its influence on shows like Industry is undeniable, from the meticulous period detail to the complex character studies. The type of stress it creates is different and more simmering, as you wonder if Don Draper is going to get away with his indiscretions and if his company will retain their accounts. But it’s just as thrilling. For viewers who appreciate Industry‘s incisive writing and nuanced performances, Mad Men offers seven seasons of equally riveting drama.

2. Succession

HBO’s critically acclaimed drama about the dysfunctional Roy family and their media empire shares
Industry’s fascination with wealth, power, and the corrupting influence of both. Where Industry focuses on hungry young graduates clawing their way up, Succession examines what happens when you’re born at the top — and the constant fear of falling. Both shows excel at depicting the often absurd world of the ultra-wealthy, balancing sharp satire with genuine pathos.

Jeremy Strong’s Kendall Roy could easily be a glimpse into the future of
Industry’s most ambitious characters, What happens when you achieve everything you thought you wanted, only to discover that it’s not enough? The ensemble cast, including Brian Cox, Sarah Snook, and Kieran Culkin, delivers performances as nuanced and compelling as anything in Industry. With 13 Emmy wins and counting, Succession is the definitive show about wealth and power in the 21st century. Succession‘s razor-sharp dialogue and complex character dynamics will feel instantly familiar to Industry fans.

3. The Sopranos

HBO’s groundbreaking mob drama paved the way for the complicated anti-heroes that populate shows like
Industry. Both shows excel at exploring the psychological toll of existing in a world of constant pressure and moral compromise. The Sopranos may focus on organized crime rather than high finance, but the themes of loyalty, power, and the American-Dream-gone-sour resonate strongly with Industry’s explorations of late-stage capitalism.

The Sopranos set the template for the kind of nuanced, morally complex storytelling that Industry excels at. For viewers who appreciate Industry’s deep character work and unflinching look at a cutthroat world, The Sopranos offers 6 seasons of unparalleled drama. Each time I watch Industry, I can relate to Tony’s panic attacks.

4. The Bear

If
Industry is the adrenaline rush of a million-dollar trade, The Bear is the heart-pounding intensity of a dinner service in the weeds. FX’s breakout hit about a high-end, fine-dining chef taking over his family’s struggling Chicago sandwich shop shares Industry‘s frenetic energy and exploration of high-pressure work environments.

Jeremy Allen White’s Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto — like
Industry’s Harper Stern — is a talented but troubled protagonist trying to prove themselves in an unforgiving world. Both are prone to panic as much as moments of pure genius; we can’t help but root for them while hoping they finally get out of their own way.

Both shows excel at depicting the toll that constant pressure takes on the characters, balancing moments of triumph with crushing setbacks.
The Bear swaps financial jargon for kitchen slang, but the underlying tension feels remarkably similar. The Bear has quickly established itself as one of TV’s most exciting new dramas, finding moments of connection and humanity amidst the chaos.

5. The Fall of the House of Usher

For
Industry fans seeking a different flavor of high-stakes drama, The Fall of the House of Usher offers a gothic twist on tales of wealth and corruption. Based on Edgar Allan Poe’s works, Mike Flanagan’s Netflix limited series shares Industry’s fascination with the dark side of ambition and power. Bruce Greenwood’s Roderick Usher — the patriarch of a pharmaceutical dynasty — can be viewed as a cautionary tale for Industry’s young strivers. Both shows excel at exploring the moral rot that often accompanies great wealth and influence.

Where
Industry finds horror in plummeting stock prices, Usher leans into supernatural terrors. Yet both understand that the most frightening monsters are often the ones we create ourselves while in pursuit of success. It’s too new for major awards, but Flanagan’s track record (including the acclaimed The Haunting of Hill House) suggests Usher will be a contender.

For
Industry viewers who appreciate that show’s psychological depth and examination of familial legacy, The Fall of the House of Usher offers a compelling, horror-tinged alternative.

6. The Morning Show

Apple TV+’s
The Morning Show shares Industry‘s fascination with high-pressure work environments and the often murky ethics of corporate America. Swapping finance for broadcast journalism, The Morning Show offers another perspective on ambition, power, and the price of success. Jennifer Aniston’s Alex Levy and Reese Witherspoon’s Bradley Jackson — like Industry’s Harper and Yasmin — navigate a cutthroat world where personal and professional lines are constantly blurred.

7. Good Girls

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kbjIaPzODs0

NBC’s
Good Girls offers a fresh spin on the high-stakes world of finance that Industry inhabits. Both shows explore how financial desperation can drive people to cross lines they never imagined they would. The stress in Good Girls is more visceral and violent, but the underlying question is the same: what would you do for money?

Where
Industry finds drama in legal (if ethically dubious) financial maneuvers, Good Girls dives into outright criminality. Yet both understand that in a world driven by money, the line between legitimate business and organized crime can be surprisingly thin.

8. Severance

Apple TV+’s
Severance shares Industry‘s interest in the dehumanizing aspects of corporate culture — albeit through a surreal lens. This sci-fi thriller — about employees who surgically divide their memories between work and personal life — offers a different flavor of workplace anxiety. Adam Scott’s Mark Scout, like many of Industry’s characters, grapples with the all-consuming nature of his job. Yet both understand that in our late-capitalist world, the boundaries between work and life are increasingly blurred.

9. Billions

For
Industry fans craving more high-stakes financial drama, Showtime’s Billions is the natural next step. Following the chess match between a hedge fund king and the U.S. Attorney determined to bring him down, it shares Industry‘s fascination with the ethical compromises and psychological warfare inherent to the pursuit of vast wealth.

Where
Industry focuses on young graduates entering the world of finance, Billions examines those at the very top of the food chain. These aren’t messy college kids living in a house flat who don’t know what to do with their money. These characters have far more to lose — but they’re playing equally fast and loose with their love and money.

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LKC

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September 6, 2024
A Chasm in the TV Space-Time Continuum, Or: Rachel Green Fucks Don Draper

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Just when you thought scenes of ~~Rachel Green~~ Alex Levy boning ~~Don Draper~~ Paul Marks (not the other way around, as some might sexistly presume) would stop at last week’s episode of The Morning Show, “The Stanford Student,” the latest installment of the third season, “Strict Scrutiny,” chose to pick up where the banging session motif left off. This time commencing a new one that viewers are made privy to after a few requisite “romantic foreplay” shots of a pizza box on the counter with two half-drunk glasses of wine next to it.

The tracking shot then passes by the sleeping dog (because dogs aren’t as perverse about watching as cats) and into the living room with the multimillion dollar view of the city—that looks like any megalopolis—before finally showing us Alex and Paul continuing to delight in their forbidden tryst from the previous week. But it’s not really Alex and Paul, is it? Or even Jennifer Aniston and Jon Hamm. No, no. All one can truly see is the unlikely fan fiction melding of Friends and Mad Men come to life.

And while it might seem that Green and Draper are worlds (and decades apart), when one stops to think about it, the two really have quite a bit in common. Or maybe, more accurately, Rachel has quite a bit in common with Don’s usual type: Betty Draper (January Jones). For instance, like Rachel, Betty is overly spoiled and a little too into spending money on clothes and other “look at me” frivolities. But, at least in Betty’s defense, she has little else to occupy her time (certainly not the raising of her kids). Even though Rachel could have landed herself a similar trophy wife lifestyle had she not left Barry Farber (Mitchell Whitfield) at the altar.

Another key similarity between the two “TV queens” are that both Betty and Rachel serve as the quintessential representation of the spoiled daughter/Daddy’s princess. Who no man will ever be good enough for (and this is how Electra complexes happen). Except that Rachel would like to believe getting a job has changed her nature. Alas, the true essence of a person (and the effects of their upbringing) never really goes away.

And while Rachel is more like Betty and less like Alex, Paul Marks, though seemingly modeled after a less socially inept Elon Musk, instead has many Don Draper characteristics. Starting with an arrogance and self-assurance that mimics the creative director who was able to make Sterling Cooper change to Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce by season four. Because while the Kennedy Camelot era had just ended in America, Don’s own Camelot era in advertising was just getting started. And so is Paul Marks’ proverbial Camelot era, as he extends his many business endeavors into the world of “legacy media,” cajoled back into a deal he was initially going to back out of thanks to Alex’s batting eyelashes. Granted, he had initially backed out in the first place largely as a result of her actions, so it’s only fair that she should be the one to reel him back in.

Indeed, the development of their attraction since the beginning of The Morning Show’s third season has almost felt as simultaneously prolonged and inevitable as the one between Ross (David Schwimmer) and Rachel (with Rachel taking a little more time to get on Ross’ pining bandwagon). Except, in this case, there are far more risks involved beyond merely “weirding Monica out” or making things awkward for a tight-knit friend group after the unavoidable breakup. At the forefront of those risks is sabotaging the deal that would arrange for Paul to buy UBA. A deal that still hasn’t been locked down, despite Cory’s (Billy Crudup) best efforts to push it through without any more scrutiny from the government.

And yes, the board would surely blanch over the knowledge of Alex and Paul banging, because what would that do for the optics of this deal? For the public would then be keenly aware of a huge conflict of interest. It is this type of high-risk behavior that Don was always known for engaging in throughout Mad Men, and Hamm appears to be attracted to characters with this sense of self-destructive bravado. Aniston, on the other hand, has a flavor for the “goody two-shoes” ilk. And Alex being America’s sweetheart (no matter what dirt on her comes out) plays into her usual typecasting ever since taking on the role of Rachel Green.

What’s more, this isn’t the first time The Morning Show has had TV worlds involving Friends collide, with Reese Witherspoon a.k.a. Big Little Lies’ Madeline Mackenzie having once cameo’d as Rachel’s sister, Jill Green, for a two-episode arc (though “arc” is a strong word for a character who doesn’t change) in season six. However, in contrast to Ross falling for Jill’s coquettish charms, Paul has zero interest in Bradley Jackson (lesbian or not), who shows up after Alex backs out of her agreement to partake in a suborbital rocket launch (yes, it’s all very Bezos meets Musk) with Paul on live TV. The power play on Alex’s part (designed to indicate to Cory how much clout she really has) ends up putting Bradley in the rocket launch seat next to Paul and Cory, and, ultimately, titillates Paul. Because, after all, what other woman would have “the balls” to flake out on him in such a public and humiliating way? And, in cliche fashion, powerful men are turned on by “things” they can’t have, seeing those “things” as a challenge. A new “terrain to conquer.” And oh, how Paul conquers Alex’s by episode six, “The Stanford Student.”

After a brief pause on their “unwittingly” romantic day date, of sorts, in episode four, “The Green Light,” their story comes back into sharp focus. Namely, with regard to their clearly, um, mounting attraction. With Alex playing the Rachel card of delaying gratification for as long as possible before finally giving in after interviewing Paul at his Hamptons house for an episode of Alex Unfiltered. And yes, she was the one who suggested the interview, as though to confirm Paul had feels for her too…by seeing if he would agree to do it. Because Paul never agrees to do interviews with anyone.

Watching how “good” the two seem for one another (that is, in this portion of the program, before the invariable crash and burn that TV drama requires), it’s enough to make one contemplate how Rachel Green existing in the 60s, or Don Draper existing in the 90s, might have made things better, relationship-wise, for the two. Because we all know ending up with Ross Geller or, in Don’s case, at an Esalen-like retreat center, isn’t exactly a happy ending. Maybe Don wouldn’t have felt the need to suppress his more narcissistic, work-obsessed qualities, as Rachel possessed them as well. Maybe their mutual narcissism could have tamped down the other’s in some fashion, or they would have simply felt more free to be who they truly were.

But since this pair of unlikely lovers could never exist in each other’s world due to the limitations of being hemmed in by their respective TV series and decade, The Morning Show offers an unexpected glimpse into a fan fiction narrative that perhaps no one ever thought to concoct before. So yes, they might tell us this is “Alex Levy” and “Paul Marks,” but na. The only way these two can be looked at with each other is: Rachel Green and Don Draper.

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Genna Rivieccio

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October 19, 2023
Madison Beer Gives Alien Mad Men Vibes in “Home to Another One”

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Being that Madison Beer’s entire “shtick” is essentially paying homage to Lana Del Rey paying homage to the 60s, it’s only to be expected that said decade would have a tendency to creep into her work. Even if by way of other pop culture zeitgeists’ interpretation of it. In the case of the video for “Home to Another One” that pop culture zeitgeist is Mad Men.

Co-directed by Beer and Aerin Moreno (who also helped Beer out with the video for “Spinnin”), it all commences with an image of the back of Beer’s head…topped by the same “alien antennae” we soon see her paramour, of sorts, sporting. Looking into the TV screen in front of her, the viewer is then permitted to see the same picturesque, snow globe-ready house she’s looking at before we find ourselves inside that very house. The one that looks like Don Draper’s (Jon Hamm) apartment circa his “married to Megan Calvet (Jessica Paré)” era. Which is fitting, considering that, for most of their marriage, Megan intensely felt the cold remoteness of Don’s personality, constantly wondering if he still loved her or, worse still, if he was cheating on her (which, yes, of course he was). For the “character” Beer is playing in “Home to Another One,” that same motif can apply. Though the song itself is meant to be about a failed relationship (the ultimate “muse” for most female singer-songwriters). Which also works when applying the Don and Megan comparison to the video.

With a ribbon in her hair (again, the Del Rey influence) and a short black dress on, Beer stands alone in her apartment as a silhouetted male figure (with those alien antennae) approaches the door, placing his hand on it longingly while Beer sings, “Could’ve sworn I saw your face/Was it you?/Was it you?” All at once, a gust of wind blows her hair back, and he walks in with a suitcase. Perhaps trying to pretend as though he was never really gone at all (such is the Don Draper way). As he sits down calmly next to Beer (in front of the image of a solar system), they both seem to easily accept that he’s back as she then croons, “Say you hate me/It’s okay, boy, you’re not the only one.” This line serving as both a personal nod to what Beer has been through over the course of her career, as well as a nod to how women are generally hated by men (not to mention other women). Yet still seek their affection and love despite knowing better.

The scene then shifts to show us a montage of the two holed up in their 60s-influenced abode together, Beer now wearing the same white dress from her album cover paired with white go-go boots. The distance between them remains apparent despite being in the same enclosed space together—a reality made ironic by the realization that they’re also suspended in space together. If this wasn’t already showcased well enough by the backdrop outside the windows, a shot of Beer in another 60s-inspired ensemble posing suggestively atop a flying saucer ought to confirm it.

More Don and Megan cosplay with an alien twist occurs in the next scene, as the two sit across from one another eating ice cream out of crystal stemware. The emotional chasm between them increasingly palpable, it seems as though the further apart that they grow, the more Beer wants to try to keep the relationship together. Ergo, her progressively more bombastic sartorial choices.

As the video comes to a close, Beer proceeds to dance in front of the control center (the one presumably operating the spaceship/house). Perhaps heavy-handed symbolism to connote that she’s finally the one in control. Flashing to more scenes of their claustrophobic relationship, Moreno then cuts to Beer picking up the same white telephone viewers saw at the beginning of the video and seemingly calling to her “replica” alien self (in this regard, the video reeks slightly of the premise for the Black Mirror episode entitled “Beyond the Sea”). Answering it, the viewer is finally able to see a frontal shot of Alien Madison answering, staring back at the TV screen where she’s now looking at Human Madison half-heartedly embracing her Alien Don Draper.

Appropriately, toward the end of the song, Beer remarks, “Now you hold her gently/Don’t you wish you saw us through?/‘Cause I do, I do.” Something about that echoing the lament-rage of Olivia Rodrigo’s “deja vu.” Alien Madison seems to inuit that Alien Don is still caught somewhere back down on Earth, so to speak, with Human Madison. Perhaps this is the reason why she flashes him a knowing, jaded glance as he walks into her parallel universe apartment now with a suitcase. Then again, it could just be a metaphor for how they’ve both become alien presences to one another as their love faded out.

Regardless, Don and Megan Draper vibes abound in the Mad Men-esque narrative featuring an intergalactic spin. With Don’s emotional stuntedness being all over this alien man…who isn’t so alien to most women thanks to his familiar behavior.

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Genna Rivieccio

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September 18, 2023
Madison Beer Gives Alien Mad Men Vibes in “Home to Another One”

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Being that Madison Beer’s entire “shtick” is essentially paying homage to Lana Del Rey paying homage to the 60s, it’s only to be expected that said decade would have a tendency to creep into her work. Even if by way of other pop culture zeitgeists’ interpretation of it. In the case of the video for “Home to Another One” that pop culture zeitgeist is Mad Men.

Co-directed by Beer and Aerin Moreno (who also helped Beer out with the video for “Spinnin”), it all commences with an image of the back of Beer’s head…topped by the same “alien antennae” we soon see her paramour, of sorts, sporting. Looking into the TV screen in front of her, the viewer is then permitted to see the same picturesque, snow globe-ready house she’s looking at before we find ourselves inside that very house. The one that looks like Don Draper’s (Jon Hamm) apartment circa his “married to Megan Calvet (Jessica Paré)” era. Which is fitting, considering that, for most of their marriage, Megan intensely felt the cold remoteness of Don’s personality, constantly wondering if he still loved her or, worse still, if he was cheating on her (which, yes, of course he was). For the “character” Beer is playing in “Home to Another One,” that same motif can apply. Though the song itself is meant to be about a failed relationship (the ultimate “muse” for most female singer-songwriters). Which also works when applying the Don and Megan comparison to the video.

With a ribbon in her hair (again, the Del Rey influence) and a short black dress on, Beer stands alone in her apartment as a silhouetted male figure (with those alien antennae) approaches the door, placing his hand on it longingly while Beer sings, “Could’ve sworn I saw your face/Was it you?/Was it you?” All at once, a gust of wind blows her hair back, and he walks in with a suitcase. Perhaps trying to pretend as though he was never really gone at all (such is the Don Draper way). As he sits down calmly next to Beer (in front of the image of a solar system), they both seem to easily accept that he’s back as she then croons, “Say you hate me/It’s okay, boy, you’re not the only one.” This line serving as both a personal nod to what Beer has been through over the course of her career, as well as a nod to how women are generally hated by men (not to mention other women). Yet still seek their affection and love despite knowing better.

The scene then shifts to show us a montage of the two holed up in their 60s-influenced abode together, Beer now wearing the same white dress from her album cover paired with white go-go boots. The distance between them remains apparent despite being in the same enclosed space together—a reality made ironic by the realization that they’re also suspended in space together. If this wasn’t already showcased well enough by the backdrop outside the windows, a shot of Beer in another 60s-inspired ensemble posing suggestively atop a flying saucer ought to confirm it.

More Don and Megan cosplay with an alien twist occurs in the next scene, as the two sit across from one another eating ice cream out of crystal stemware. The emotional chasm between them increasingly palpable, it seems as though the further apart that they grow, the more Beer wants to try to keep the relationship together. Ergo, her progressively more bombastic sartorial choices.

As the video comes to a close, Beer proceeds to dance in front of the control center (the one presumably operating the spaceship/house). Perhaps heavy-handed symbolism to connote that she’s finally the one in control. Flashing to more scenes of their claustrophobic relationship, Moreno then cuts to Beer picking up the same white telephone viewers saw at the beginning of the video and seemingly calling to her “replica” alien self (in this regard, the video reeks slightly of the premise for the Black Mirror episode entitled “Beyond the Sea”). Answering it, the viewer is finally able to see a frontal shot of Alien Madison answering, staring back at the TV screen where she’s now looking at Human Madison half-heartedly embracing her Alien Don Draper.

Appropriately, toward the end of the song, Beer remarks, “Now you hold her gently/Don’t you wish you saw us through?/‘Cause I do, I do.” Something about that echoing the lament-rage of Olivia Rodrigo’s “deja vu.” Alien Madison seems to inuit that Alien Don is still caught somewhere back down on Earth, so to speak, with Human Madison. Perhaps this is the reason why she flashes him a knowing, jaded glance as he walks into her parallel universe apartment now with a suitcase. Then again, it could just be a metaphor for how they’ve both become alien presences to one another as their love faded out.

Regardless, Don and Megan Draper vibes abound in the Mad Men-esque narrative featuring an intergalactic spin. With Don’s emotional stuntedness being all over this alien man…who isn’t so alien to most women thanks to his familiar behavior.

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Genna Rivieccio

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September 18, 2023
Odes to Willful Oblivion: Taylor Swift’s “Lavender Haze” and Miley Cyrus’ “Rose Colored Lenses”

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Talk of being in the initial throes of an intense love (or, at least, an intense infatuation) is nothing new in terms of fodder for pop songs. In truth, it’s what most pop songs—the “timeless” ones, anyway—are renowned for. Because, in addition to Jane Austen novels and rom-coms, they peddle the beloved lie of a love that can last forever. Not just any love though: a passionate one that burns and endures long after the honeymoon phase. And yet, with Taylor Swift’s “Lavender Haze” and Miley Cyrus’ “Rose Colored Lenses” being released on the heels of one another (with the former put out as a single in November of 2022 and the latter unveiled on Cyrus’ Endless Summer Vacation in March of this year), the subject of being willfully caught in the veil of amorous illusion (presumably in a shade of lavender or pink) has made a surprising comeback. While one might have formerly associated such talk of young love (meaning a new love in general, not merely or solely being of a “young age” and also being in love) with the 1950s (e.g., The Platters’ “Only You,” The Flamingos’ “I Only Have Eyes For You” and Dean Martin’s “That’s Amore”), it seems that Swift and Cyrus each want to do their part to remind audiences that a “pop song kind of love” remains possible. Even in this epoch of sex robots and AI.

With the aforementioned 50s in mind, it’s only appropriate that Swift extrapolated the title of “Lavender Haze” from none other than the “Golden Age of Television” itself. A term that Mad Men revitalized in a season two episode called “The Mountain King.” In it, Don tells Anna Draper (Melinda Page Hamilton), the widowed wife of the real Don Draper, that he’s met a girl. In this case, Betty (January Jones). Seeing the way he lights up when he talks about her, Anna remarks, “Look at you. You’re in the lavender haze.” At this time, it would have been the late 50s, so it tracks when Swift noted of the song, “…it turns out that it was a common phrase that was used in the 50s where they would just describe being in love. Like, if you were in the ‘Lavender Haze,’ that meant you were in that all-encompassing love glow, and I thought that was really beautiful.” Even if also kind of vomit-inducing.

As for Cyrus, she opted to use a more conventional, widely-known expression by turning “rose colored glasses” into “rose colored lenses” for a song that very much echoes the sentiments presented in “Lavender Haze.” Chief among them wanting to stay in the bubble that a freshly-brewing love can accommodate. One characterized by sex-stained sheets and never leaving the bedroom. Cyrus addresses this indelible image (a common cliché for good reason) in the lyrics, “We could stay like this forever/Lost in wonderland/With our head above the clouds/Fallin’ stupid like we’re kids/Wearin’ rose colored lenses/Let’s just play pretend.”

Indeed, that’s exactly what Swift wants to keep doing as well, even as the curious, prying eyes of the media start to encroach upon her. This much is addressed in that portion of “Lavender Haze” that goes, “I just wanna stay in that lavender haze…/Talk your talk and go viral/I just need this love spiral/Get it off your chest/Get it off my desk.” In other words, let a bitch keep fucking in peace without media gossip buzzing in her ear. And yet, as Swift acknowledged, even the hoi polloi are subjected to their lavender haze being burst sooner and with more ease in this modern era of social media. So it was that she remarked of its relatability to the “commoner,” “I guess theoretically when you’re in the ‘Lavender Haze,’ you’ll do anything to stay there and not let people bring you down off of that cloud. And I think a lot of people have to deal with this now—not just, like, quote-unquote public figures—because we live in the era of social media and if the world finds out that you’re in love with somebody, they’re gonna weigh in on it.”

Cyrus clearly feels the same way about protecting a new relationship’s privacy as she croons, “Let’s just play pretend/Wearin’ rose colored lenses/Pretend we’ll never end/Naked in conversation/Drown me in your delight/Endless summer vacation/Make it last ’til we die.” When Cyrus refers to a “death” here, however, it seems to allude more to the Lana Del Rey sense of it when she woefully laments of being a couple in love before the inevitable breakup, “You and I/We were born to die.” But until then, Cyrus insists that they “make a mess of a nice hotel.”

Swift, too, exhibits the sort of willful naïveté (read: denial) that makes her capable of ignoring reality for as long as possible. Six years, to be exact. For that was the extent of her “lavender haze” with Joe Alwyn, the muse who inspired the track (as he did numerous others of Swift’s from Reputation onward). As for the other “muse” of the single—the 50s—funnily enough, Swift mocks the very decade (and its narrow-minded views of women) that’s technically responsible for creating the song at all. This despite overtly paying homage to that period in time when love—specifically, “fresh love”—was painted with the very rose colored lenses Cyrus also speaks to in her song of the same name. Nonetheless, Swift rebuffs “quaint” 50s ideas via the lines, “All they keep askin’ me/Is if I’m gonna be your bride/The only kind of girl they see/Is a one-night or a wife,” in addition to, “Surreal, I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say/No deal, the 1950s shit they want from me.”

In the end, though, it’s “1950s shit” that both Swift and Cyrus (along with so many others) patently want out of love. Which is why they know they must keep their tinted haze/glasses up for as long as possible in order to continue fostering the delusion that such a thing can exist. As everyone must…before the smoke clears, the tint of the glasses dissipates and all we see in front of us is a hideous monster that makes us want to take a Lysol shower as a result of ever allowing them access to our body and mind.

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Genna Rivieccio

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June 25, 2023
That Littering Scene in Mad Men Cuts to the Core of How Corporations Would End Up Pulling A Fast One on Their Consumers

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Amid the many scenes from Mad Men that still linger in one’s mind, one of the oddest (at least to modern eyes) is the moment where the Drapers, on a rare family outing together, happily discard all their trash after a picnic. Taking place in season two, episode seven—entitled “The Gold Violin”—the year of this particular nonchalant act on the part of the Drapers is meant to be in 1962. A different world from the “Don’t Be A Litterbug” one that we know today. Considering that popular discourse loves to place all responsibility for the current climate crisis on baby boomers, this scene is especially topical. And yet, being that the chemicals and technologies we’ve come to know as categorically detrimental (e.g., pesticides, nuclear power, Teflon, etc.) were still new and deemed beacons of “progress” rather than implements of destruction that only corporations would benefit from in the long-run, maybe it’s unfair to blame boomer consumers who didn’t know any better at the outset.

In fact, so “uncouth” were they with regard to environmental etiquette that they needed a campaign to tell them not to litter. Thus, people such as Don (Jon Hamm), Betty (January Jones), Sally (Kiernan Shipka) and Bobby (played by Aaron Hart in the second season) tossing their trash onto the ground like it was nothing would not be out of the ordinary for the (lack of) social mores of the day. Complete with Don chucking his beer can into the distance like a football and Betty shaking out their trash-filled picnic blanket onto the grass without a second thought. It’s not as though there was a nearby garbage can handily available, after all. For these were in the days before there was much initiative on the part of the government to regulate its population “correctly” disposing of waste, with fines for littering coming later. While, on the one hand, it can be taken as a sign of “barbaric” Silent Generation and boomer comportment, on the other, it’s apparent they couldn’t see the full weight of the mounting effects of “modern convenience,” including the Santa Barbara oil spill (which would ultimately bring about the first Earth Day in 1970), until the end of the 1960s. According to environmental historian Adam Rome, “I think [the oil spill] was one of the ultimately most important in a series of accidents or problems that made people realize that a lot of the modern technologies that seemed miraculous…posed unprecedented risks to the health of the environment and ultimately to ourselves.”

These were risks that the corporation never wanted the average American consumer to take note of. Indeed, the real reason the Keep America Beautiful campaign was even started served as part of a deflection from the real issue: corporations needing the consumer to keep buying shit over and over again by building it not to last. Ergo, more waste from manufacturing and packaging. So of course there was bound to be more potential for littering.

Per Mother Jones’ Bradford Plumer, “Keep America Beautiful managed to shift the entire debate about America’s garbage problem. No longer was the focus on regulating production—for instance, requiring can and bottle makers to use refillable containers, which are vastly less profitable. Instead, the ‘litterbug’ became the real villain, and KAB supported fines and jail time for people who carelessly tossed out their trash, despite the fact that, clearly, ‘littering’ is a relatively tiny part of the garbage problem in this country (not to mention the resource damage and pollution that comes with manufacturing ever more junk in the first place). Environmental groups that worked with KAB early on didn’t realize what was happening until years later.” When the indoctrination had already taken hold anyway. Americans held themselves accountable for being pieces of shit while corporations and their head honchos kept laughing all the way to the bank as a result of the misdirection.

As for Mad Men’s creator, Matthew Weiner, born in 1965, he likely would have still been witnessing casual, cavalier littering in his own childhood. For it wasn’t until 1971 that the first vehemently guilt-tripping Keep America Beautiful ad came out—the one with the famous “crying Indian.” Preying on the germinal phenomenon of white guilt, the ad has been described as one of the greatest ever made. We’re talking Don Draper-level shit. Focused on a Native American (played by an Italian, obviously) canoeing through trash in what turns out to be oil rig-filled waters, a narrator says, “Some people have a deep, abiding respect for the natural beauty that was once this country.” At this instant, the Native American finds himself at the side of a highway as someone throws a bag of trash out their window that explodes open as it lands at his feet. Here the narrator concludes, “And some people don’t.” Read: and some oblivious white yuppie cunts like the Drapers don’t. To that point, it’s appropriate that Sally, in this particular picnic scene, asks her parents if they’re rich. Betty, ever the avoider of real topics, replies, “It’s not polite to talk about money.” Nor is it polite to throw trash wherever one pleases, but Betty and Don hadn’t yet gotten the literal (litter-al?) message. Along with the rest of their generation and the one that they had just begat.

At the end of the “crying Indian” PSA, it’s declared, “People start pollution. People can stop it.” Ironically, the “people” who actually could stop it—corporations (legally deemed people, in case you forgot)—are not held accountable in any way in such ads that place all responsibility on the individual a.k.a. consumer to “do their part.” And yet, trying to put all the onus on the consumer to “self-regulate” feels like a small drop in an oil spill-filled ocean of what could actually be done if corporations weren’t a bottomless pit of profit-seeking.

While this moment of littering in “The Gold Violin” is an accurate re-creation of what would have gone down in 1962 after a picnic, it’s also a larger statement from Weiner (who co-wrote the episode) about the false veneer of perfection that existed in those days in general and in the lives of Mad Men’s characters in particular. Because, beneath the surface, it was all a steaming garbage heap waiting to spew forth. For example, although Don has just bought a shiny new convertible to match his shiny new success at the agency, the bubbling up of consequences resulting from his latest affair with Bobbie Barrett (Melinda McGraw) is about to explode his marriage as he once knew it. Elsewhere, Sal (Bryan Batt) invites Ken (Aaron Staton) over to his apartment for dinner, where his wife, Kitty (Sarah Drew), is made to feel like the third wheel—giving her that evermore uneasy sense about Sal that doesn’t crystallize until episode two of season three, when he does his Ann-Margaret in Bye Bye Birdie impression for her. Then there’s Bert Cooper’s (Robert Morse) acquisition of one of Rothko’s signature “red square” paintings. Prompting Ken, Jane (Peyton List), Harry (Rich Sommer) and Sal to enter his office without permission while he’s away so that they can view it. Although Sal, as “an artist,” claims that it “has to” mean something, Ken counters, “I don’t think it’s supposed to be explained… Maybe you’re just supposed to experience it.”

This idea that existence is dominated by total chaos as opposed to some “deeper meaning” would come to define the 1960s and beyond. Even as corporations did their best to insist that all chaos—especially of the environmentally-related variety—was simply the result of poor individual “manners” and “self-control.”

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Genna Rivieccio

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April 22, 2023
January Jones Wants Casting Directors “to Come Back Into the Office Like Everyone Else”

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January Jones is sick of auditioning over Zoom. Variety reports that over the weekend the Mad Men actor took to her Instagram Stories to express her frustration with virtual auditions. “Note to Hollywood: It’s time for casting directors to come back into the office like everyone else. To audition actors in person,” she wrote.

Jones took on virtual auditions as well as the now ubiquitous “self-tape,” which requires the actor to film their own audition and send it to the casting director themselves. “I personally have had to self tape several times since the pandemic began and there is zero benefit to it for anyone involved,” her post continued. “It’s time consuming, expensive, and a drag to whomever you have to drag in to read with you (sorry Mom), and is often done with zero direction/notes.” She also gave some free advice to aspiring actors out there, warning them to never pay for an audition: “And if anyone asks for a FEE to audition please know that this is criminal and PATHETIC.”

“I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for an actor just starting out if an established actor has to beg for a Zoom [meeting] when an in-person audition is ‘unavailable,’” Jones concluded. “Please do better.”

While virtual auditions and self-tapes have allowed actors to audition in a socially distant manner, they’ve come with their own issues. In 2020, White Lotus actor Lukas Gage went viral after posting video of a virtual audition where a director, later revealed to be TV-comedy veteran Tristram Shapeero, disparaged him (and his apartment!) while thinking he was on mute during the actor’s audition. (Shapeero apologized, saying that he was “mortified” by his comments.)

At the time, Jones commented on Gage’s viral audition, perhaps foreshadowing her now documented distaste for the virtual audition process. “Classy response Lukas 👌🏻,” she wrote. “What an entitled asshole, dm me who it was so I can make note not to ever work with that person.”

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Chris Murphy

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March 6, 2023
Taylor Swift’s “Lavender Haze” Video Induces Little More Than Malaise

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If the domicile in “Lavender Haze” appears slightly familiar, perhaps it’s because of how similar it looks and feels to the one in “Anti-Hero.” And if the overall “mood palette” looks the same too, it’s because, as Swift stated, “This was the first video I wrote out of the three that have been released, and this one really helped me conceptualize the world and mood of Midnights, like a sultry sleepless 70s fever dream. Hope you like it.” And sure, of course everyone is expected to “like” it—if for no other reason than the fact that Swift opted to cast trans model Laith Ashley De La Cruz as her love interest (who also happens to be a weather forecaster—a nod to the “Karma” lyrics, “The guy on the screen/Coming straight home to me”).

Swift, who has become “pointedly” woke in the years since she abandoned country music (and there really are some shitty songs from the canon of her early work), has been steadfastly building toward this. After all, she was sure to be more “inclusive” with the Black Mirror-esque “Lover” video (during which she also sings about a haze via the lines, “There’s a dazzling haze/A mysterious way about you, dear”) that featured Christian Owens as the lover in question. And then there was the “allyship” of “You Need to Calm Down” (also from the Lover album), which Swift timed for a release during Pride Month. So sure, “tapping into” the trans community was only a matter of time. Forgive one for the “jaded tinge” that has to it, but, it’s somewhat obvious that Swift treats the “minorities” she casts somewhat differently than the more “all-American” men she’s had in her videos. That is to say, she’ll actually kiss those men. For example, in her first video, “Tim McGraw,” Swift wasn’t shy about offering up some kiss action to her co-star, Clayton Collins. Released in 2006, it was clear Swift had a long way to go before becoming “woke”—accordingly, the country twang in her voice at that time has disappeared entirely in favor of “pop voice.”

Elsewhere, she might never have kissed “Drew” in the “Teardrops On My Guitar” video, but probably because he was into some other girl, and that other girl seemed to be more of a beard than anything (this based solely on the casting choice for “Drew”). So maybe he was really just sparing his dear friend Swift the pain of kissing him only to later learn he could never love a woman. In the hoedown sound of the “Our Song” video, there was no room for a man at all. But these are extenuating circumstances that don’t apply to videos like “Lover” and “Lavender Haze,” wherein she prefers touchy “canoodling” to more overt displays of affection, which leads one to call bullshit on her “true acceptance” of the marginalized. It’s a classic case of that “Anti-Hero” lyric, “Did you hear my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism?” But anyway, apart from the predictability of her casting choices at this point in her political/musical career, “Lavender Haze” is not among her most exciting concepts for a music video.

Once more directed by Swift herself, the video starts off with a number of her beloved “Easter eggs,” including a close-up on a “Mastermind” record with the signs of Sagittarius (Swift’s) and Pisces (Joe Alwyn’s) etched in the constellation artwork. Then there’s the burning incense on the nightstand, which alludes to the “Maroon” lyrics, “When the morning came/We were cleaning incense off your vinyl shelf.” Swift, now sitting up in bed, is in the throes of insomnia, compounded by a literal cloud over her head as the lyrics, “You don’t really read into my melancholia” are said. Unlike Swifties, who read into every mood Swift is willing to showcase. Next to her in bed is De La Cruz, who appears unbothered by Swift’s nocturnal activity as he sleeps through the night in peace. Even when she touches his back and reveals the universe contained within it—yes, we all want to know what drugs she’s on.

In the next instant, she’s lighting a match and we briefly wonder if her country-era persona has taken over and decided to commit a hate crime against a trans person. But no, for whatever reason, the match doesn’t light a fire, but a “lavender haze” (a.k.a. what looks like Gulal powder in purple). As Taylor dances around in the haze, De La Cruz continues to sleep like a log, even when the powdery substance enters his nostrils… but hey, it’s not coke, so why should it wake him?

In the next scene, Swift is inexplicably alone on the couch in a lavender coat—a scene recognizable from many of her promotional photos for Midnights. Because why not kill two birds with one stone by extrapolating some stills from the music video for the album promo? In any case, Swift proves she must have been smoking the good shit on this night as she blows a clock-shaped smoke ring in our face à la The Caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland. After which she crawls on the floor through a suddenly materialized “field” of flowers (lavender ones, of course). Making her way toward the TV where De La Cruz is giving the “Forecast at Midnight” on the screen. Arriving at the TV, Swift is able to split it open to reveal another universe filled with koi fish inside. Again, she must have been smoking the good shit (as only a celebrity can afford).

Another cut to Swift in a lavender-hued pool that looks like the kind one might be able to access at a very expensive spa allows the chanteuse to play up her chastely sexual side. At which time she sings, “I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say.” But of course she does—that’s what the majority of her songs and video concepts have been driven by. Unfortunately, this particular video concept wasn’t driven by the inspiration for the track’s title: Mad Men. Per Swift, “I happened upon the phrase ‘lavender haze’ when I was watching Mad Men. I looked it up because I thought it sounded cool. And it turns out that it’s a common phrase used in the 50s where they would describe being in love. If you’re in the ‘lavender haze,’ then that meant you were in that all-encompassing love glow. And I thought that was really beautiful.” Beautiful enough to ascribe it to what she was going through with Joe Alwyn at the beginning of their relationship, protecting it at all costs from the media (which she still does). As Swift remarked, “I guess, theoretically, when you’re in the ‘lavender haze,’ you’ll do anything to stay there. And not let people bring you down off of that cloud [hence, the presence of some very pronounced clouds in this video]. I think that a lot of people have to deal with this now, not just like ‘public figures,’ because we live in the era of social media, and if the world finds out if you’re in love with somebody they’re going to weigh in on it.”

But Swift ought to be more concerned with an objective person (as opposed to a die-hard Swiftie) weighing in on this video. During which she ironically insists, “No deal/The 1950s shit they want from me,” yet so adores the term “lavender haze,” which originated in the 50s. With this in mind, a more engaging concept would have been to set the video in the 50s at some point, perhaps with a Pleasantville angle that then finds Swift entering the modern world once the haze has ended. Because, although she doesn’t admit it (or want to), that “honeymoon” period is usually over after about a year.

In another non sequitur moment, the scene that follows Swift splitting the screen and being in a lavender pool is a party at the duo’s house that seems intent to look as 70s-era as possible despite this song’s genesis being a direct result of the 50s. The party naturally devolves into a wannabe Holi celebration with more lavender-hued Gulal powder as Swift and her party attendees dance about in a reverie.

The final moments show Swift opening the window in her living room (the party guests and De La Cruz have mysteriously vanished, perhaps all figments of her “fever dream” imagination to begin with) and then pushing the wall down. This causes the domino effect of all four walls falling, pushed back to reveal Swift’s abode has been floating in that lavender, koi fish-filled universe behind the TV screen that she was mesmerized by earlier. Now nestled in a giant cloud that appeared at the center of the erstwhile living room, Swift disappears into it and leaves the world behind. Notably, the fact that her love interest is not in the haze with her speaks to 1) how Swift would never really be with a trans person and 2) how her relationships have enabled her storytelling indulgence to make most of the narrative about her experience.

Swift has also said of her tenure with Alwyn re: the “lavender haze,” [In] my relationship [of] six years we’ve had to dodge weird rumors, tabloid stuff, and we just ignore it. So this song is about the act of ignoring that stuff to protect the real stuff.” And yet, the accompanying video is about the fantastical rather than the real, which leads one to believe that Swift does a lot of manufacturing for the sake of songwriting embellishment. If only she could have “embellished” a more engaging and original video for the song… Anyway, now that this is off one’s chest, Taylor can get it off her desk.

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Genna Rivieccio

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January 28, 2023