Steve Sailer: “After the Tom Cruise generation of boyish, small, and energetic stars, it’s refreshing to see a Golden Age of Hollywoodish leading man like tall, dark, and handsome Jon Hamm, who plays creative director Don Draper as the strong, silent type” in “the cable period drama Mad Men.”
Too true, but bless Steve: In an article about “Mad Men” the series, this is one of the few mentions the MM get.
I’ve watched Mad Men a couple of times, mainly for the Draper character. He’s perfect. As is evident from his tender affair with a teacher, the viewer recently discovered that this complex character (now that’s a novelty) would probably not be quite such an incorrigible philanderer were his beautiful wife not so icy and hostile. Poverty, military service, and a marriage of necessity—these are all interesting facets revealed recently about the Draper character.
I watch it, when it doesn’t get too tedious, for the nostalgia the production triggers—nostalgia for the days when women had soothing, soft voices, spoke in complete sentences, and seemed so much smarter and refined than their modern-day, emancipated shrew sisters.
One more thing: The Cruise generation has been followed by a slew of androgynous, unisex actors supposedly in possession of the Y Chromosome. For example, Ryan Phillippe. Yuk. Unwatchable. Or Leonardo DiCaprio; a fair actor, but frightfully undeveloped physically. I hope Hamm makes a lot of films, thrillers, especially. Maybe a couple of new-generation “Dirty Harry” flicks.
Steve’s spot on: “the show relentlessly exposes the sexism of pre-feminism men like Don Draper, seemingly for today’s women to cluck over.”
Update (Oct 31): Oh for heaven’s sake: “Perfect” to describe the Draper character is meant to compliment his dashing looks, manly demeanor, and complexity. There is a lot of good about him.
Asserted and assimilated by men in the Comments Section is the feminist truism whereby saying that a man would be a good husband if he only had a loving wife is an excuse for the man’s innate badness.
Given the profile of the average woman—leftist, whining, romance-reading, Oprah-watching idiot—it makes perfect sense to feel sorry for a lot of men.
I have only to watch couples purchasing homes on the “House and Garden” channel to marvel at why more men don’t stray. The average woman shopping for a home:
“The dog would love this yard. This yard is not large enough for the dog.” Here’s a fem checking over a $1.3 million home: “my couch will go well in this living room; no, I can’t fit that grand sofa I purchased at Target in here.”
And I’m saying to Sean: “The agent is kind of cute. She gets that you don’t purchase a home to accommodate your ugly old furniture. Or dog! He should go for her.”
It’s also possible that TV reflects the worst of America.
However, certain verbose individuals should take a cue or two from the silent steely type. Never shutting up; never censoring yourself—spewing forth with every infarct of a thought the misfiring brain produces: now that is bloody off-putting.
Draper does not talk a lot. My favorite people ration speech.
An exchange with writer Rob Stove produced these BAB memories/thoughts some time ago:
“When my daughter was seven-years old, her school assigned her the task of describing her parents. On her father, daddy’s darling heaped unrealistic praise (the tables have since turned. Excellent!). For her affection-starved mother, the little lady reserved a matter-of-fact appraisal. ‘My mother,’ she wrote in her girlie cursive, ‘is a quiet woman who speaks mainly when she has something to say.’ (Rob’s riposte: ‘if everyone rationed speech thus, the entire mainstream punditocracy would cease to exist.’ Amen.)”
Pinpointed by my perceptive chatterbox of a child, this economy explains the lack of gush in my writing. Cutting and slashing at a column are one of the best things a writer can do. That’s my advice to budding writers (or people who believe they are writers). Slash mercilessly.
