Welcome to part 2 of my Wednesday 'Mad Men' onslaught: An examination of the most recent four episodes of the show. These are just thoughts and observations about individual episodes, (very) loosely divided by episode title.

So what's the difference between this and part 1 of my 'Mad Men' onslaught, in which I discuss why the current season of 'Mad Men' may end up being my favorite? Well, that piece is more of a big-picture look at the season and the social and personal forces affecting the characters.

What's below is a closer examination of events and developments that occurred in the past four episodes.

Before we get started, a few notes:

• My reviews of the first two 'Mad Men' episodes of the season can be found here and here.

• The weekly 'Mad Men' podcast that I do with Ryan McGee can be found here or here.

• Don't forget to come back every Monday for reviews of the remaining episodes of season 4.

OK, let's take a look at season 4, shall we?


Season 4, Episode 3: 'The Good News'

It's interesting to note that Faye, the researcher at the office, looks a lot like Anna in California. I don't want to make to much of the resemblance, but nothing on this show happens by accident. And I think there are some parallels there, well beyond the fact that both are blond. Both women are smart, not particularly prone to Don's charms and free spirits in their own way. Anna lives a very independent life unapologetically and Faye has made great strides when women embarking on that kind of career got little support or positive reinforcement.

Of course, Don hits on Faye (in a later episode) and Anna's niece Stephanie (in 'The Good News'), but he strikes out, as he has a lot this season. Stephanie has Anna's very serious illness on her mind, while Faye is understandably unwilling to risk everything she's worked for in order to experience the Draper Magic.

This is something Ryan McGee and I have talked a lot about in our weekly 'Mad Men' podcast -- what kind of woman Don is attracted to and why. The women he was serious about (outside his marriage) are often self-possessed and don't necessarily need him in their lives. Even the school teacher last season had her own apartment and her own career, which she of course put at risk by sleeping with Don, but she still had a profession to fall back on.

Then there's Rachel Menken, Midge Daniels, Bobbie Barrett, Anna Draper -- all have been relatively or entirely independent women who didn't need him to survive, financially or even emotionally. I think Don enjoys that -- not necessarily being needed but being wanted. His one relationship with a woman who depended on him financially and emotionally -- i.e., his marriage to Betty -- ended in disaster.

This season Don is having to learn an entirely different interpersonal calculus, and the fact that he's only dimly aware of the fact that he needs to change shows how far he has to go.

The fact is, he doesn't get to set the terms of the relationships anymore. Allison needed him -- she just needed him to acknowledge their encounter honestly, but he failed. Don needs to figure out how to be honest and emotionally engaged with a self-possessed woman who, as Peggy put it in 'Waldorf Stories,' will "stare back." He's not truly ready for that, as his lost weekend and fumbled passes would indicate. Yet his honest conversation with Faye in the office kitchen in 'The Chrysanthemum and the Sword' may have been his first step toward that more enlightened (and possibly more satisfying) approach.

Anna means so much to him that, in an odd way, losing her could be good for him. It'd force him out of keeping his emotional life in a separate container out in California. Why not find another Anna -- one he could spend years with -- right in New York? Or would the thought of committing to that much emotional intimacy make him run screaming back to the Dorises of the world?

It's interesting to note that the first Season 4 time-lapse shot of Don is in this episode. As he absorbs the news of Anna's impending death, we see him sit through a long night, which rolls into morning. There's a similar shot in 'Waldorf Stories' on the night of the Clio Awards, and the two seem somehow related. Don is wrestling with a lot of loss -- the loss of his marriage, the loss of his status as the unquestioned alpha dog at work, the loss of Anna and even the loss of his kids (he sees them, but he doesn't really see them).

For someone who's found intimacy so difficult to master, it's a rough time, and I think the Don we see this season is struggling with whether opening up more will help him or hurt him. He opens up to Faye yet can't be human to Allison. He abjectly adores Anna yet still treats her niece -- whom he's honestly intrigued by -- as just another pickup. Dick Whitman will always live on (until someone paints over Anna's wall, but he needs to integrate Dick's sweetness and availability with Don's intelligence and curiosity. It won't be easy.

A few other thoughts on the episode:
• One of my favorite kind of 'Mad Men' scenes is the kind I can't quite figure out. As her CreepRapistHusband stitches up her hand, I can't quite figure out what emotions are going through Joan's mind. I think she began crying because, for once, someone else was taking care of her, even briefly. But Christina Hendricks did an amazing job of taking us through everything that Joan felt -- fear that her husband would botch the job, surprise at how efficiently he attended to her, relief at being taken care of and bittersweet sadness at the fact that their lives were still so unsettled. Oh, I can't wait until Greg leaves for Vietnam.

• Lane Pryce drunk is hilarious. This was the best kind of early-in-the-season 'Mad Men' episode -- it gave us the chance to see two characters we don't normally see together hanging out and getting to know each other. The more alcohol that was drunk, the better friends Lane and Don became, and the sight of him yelling in fake Japanese at the woman in the movie theater and waving meat around in the restaurant -- well, Jared Harris beautifully nailed the comedy and the drama of every single Lane scene. From enjoyment at the movies to sadness over the end of his marriage to the silliness of the comedy club to the savoring of his call girl experience, it was a masterful deployment of nuance and timing.

Season 4, Episode 4: 'The Rejected'

I've really enjoyed the Pete Campbell arc this season, even though it hasn't been one of the showiest aspects of season 4. But this episode gives the first solid proof that Pete's methods have definitely changed. He was always an operator, but he's much smarter now and much less likely to see pouting as a legitimate problem-solving method.

He's presented with the news that SCDP has to resign the Clearasil account he brought in through his family connections. Rather that sitting in his office and stewing about it, he solves the problem -- actually, several problems at once. Trudy's parents have never been shy about reminding the couple of what they've been given, but the era of their strings-attached generosity is about to end.

Given that Trudy's expecting, Pete has the grandchild card to play. You want free and easy access to that kid? Pony up the non-conflicting parts of the corporate empire. I had no problem with Pete playing hardball with his father-in-law -- turnabout is fair play, right? It was about time that he asserted his independence from the in-laws, and the fact that he could deliver an important new piece of business at work was just the icing on the cake.

Yes, Pete Campbell, as he proves in later episodes, has grown up a lot. In a real way, he and Peggy are the heirs apparent to the agency. Roger showed in 'The Chrysanthemum and the Sword' that he may be too set in his ways to evolve the firm in the direction it needs to go in, and Don is falling apart and not delivering consistently, as a boss, as a person and as an ad man. So as we see later in 'Waldorf Stories' and other episodes, it's left to Peggy and Pete to step up to the plate, show leadership skills and clean up some messes as well. Both have the kind of ambition and energy they need to shimmy up the ladder, but, as Don and Roger have found out, things only get more difficult the higher you go.

Still, it's worth noting here that Pete and Trudy have the most functional marriage on the show (the most functional relationship of all is that of Joan and Roger, but they'll probably never really be together. Sigh). It seems to me that they expertly maneuvered the situation so that Pete and his father-in-law Tom were alone and Pete could deliver the coup de grace (and that was a divine shrug at the end of the scene).

Pete and Trudy really do complement each other well. Given what a weasel he was earlier in the show's run and how brittle their marriage has seemed at times, it's interesting to note that they've come through the upheavals of the '60s unscathed so far. They have each other, and that's all they really need to make it.

On the job front, in 'Waldorf Stories' Pete puts Ken Cosgrove in his place -- he's beneath Pete in the office hierarchy, and it doesn't need to be said that Pete will do everything in his power to keep Ken there. It's quite a turnaround from the days when Ken was the guy to beat in the Accounts horse-race, but Pete is nothing if not tenacious. When he has the upper hand over Ken, or his father in law, he will use it. Not cruelly, but firmly.

As with the scene with Joan and her husband in the previous episode, there were a lot of delicious layers in the lunch scene with Ken and Pete. They still view each other as rivals, but Pete's moving up in the world while Ken has had a much rougher time of it since their previous firm broke up and reformed as SCDP. Still, while those two may have a rocky history, they also both understand what it's like to do that job -- what a grind it can be to hold the hands of current clients while desperately scrambling to land new ones. For Pete, commiserating with Ken, another young striver, is comforting in its own way.

Between Allison and Don, there can be no meeting of the minds. "This actually happened," Allison tells Don, and his failure to acknowledge their one-night-stand in any meaningful way is surprising but not shocking. Don is (or has in the past been) good at reading people, but he makes the mistake that others are like Joan, Roger, Bert and Lane. He thinks that the proper way to conduct yourself in the world involves keeping your private business private.

To his way of thinking, pain should stay under wraps, but this season Don is having a prostitute deliver the punishment he feels he deserves. You don't have to be a shrink to see that Don is going about a lot of things wrong, and kudos to Allison for not letting him get away with his dismissive attitude (and kudos to Alexa Alemanni for her great performance in the role).

A few random thoughts:
• I loved, loved, loved Peggy's head peeping over the transom after the Don-Allison scene. All in all, it was a very deft directorial debut for John Slattery. Speaking of Peggy, I hope we meet her new friend Abe again. The characters didn't have much time together but Abe made far more of an impression than Peggy's drippy fiance, whom we all know is going to get dumped any minute now.

• We meet the infamous Miss Blankenship in this episode, and while I think the show has walked right to the line of overusing her, so far 'Mad Men' hasn't crossed it yet. That's just my two cents. I think, given that it is a dark time in Don's life, having quite a bit of comic relief isn't such bad thing (season 3 could have used a bit more comedy, truth be told).
'Mad Men' depicts friendship really well. Joan and Roger, Joan and Don, Roger and Don (when they're getting along), Don and Anna -- this is a show that depicts platonic (or at least semi-platonic) relationships with real subtlety and feeling. It's only appropriate, given that 'Mad Men' frequently depicts the heartbreak and the divine relief of a search for real connection. In any case, there's a certain sweetness in the fact that good old Joan went to the Clios in 'Waldorf Stories' -- and ended up holding hands with both Don and Roger. They love her and she loves them right back, and as we witness a dark, stressful time in their lives, it's important to remember that these people do have each others' backs.

• The most affecting friendship of all may be that of Pete and Peggy. There's so much history there, and it cost Peggy a lot to congratulate Pete on the new baby, but it was important to her to do that, because he matters to her. Though they're separated by a glass wall at the end, the look they share makes it clear that their connection has never been stronger.

Season 4, Episode 5: 'The Chrysanthemum and the Sword'

A lot happened in this episode. A lot. It might be easiest to go through it character by character.

Roger: His vehement opposition to Honda as a potential client was, in part, a power play. There's no doubt that he did indeed hate the idea of doing business with a Japanese company, but he ends the SCDP partners' meeting by announcing, "Lucky Strike is great. Meeting adjourned." Rogers sees himself as top dog in the firm, and, as far as he's concerned, as long as the top dog keeps the top client happy, that's all that should matter to anyone.

The trouble is, the agency's dependency on Lucky Strike is like a smoker's addiction to nicotine -- actually, SCDP's situation is far worse. Smokers don't die from quitting, obviously, but the firm going cold turkey from LS would be a disaster. One of the big arcs of the season involves various members of the firm trying to drum up new business, not least among them Pete. On some level, Roger must fear the newly self-confident Pete, and if he doesn't, he's making a big mistake. Just as Don has Ted Chaough and other up-and-comers in his rearview mirror, Roger has Pete hot on his heels.

Roger has to both give up old baggage -- his still smoldering hatred of an old enemy -- and accept new facts, i.e., the fact that he can't be the solo alpha dog if the firm is to thrive. But, like Don, Roger is having trouble incorporating new realities into his life. (By the way, I love that, even in his rage, Roger didn't break character. He was still funny, even though he was of course offensive and thoughtless.)

Don: Don pretends to not to care about Ted Chaough, but seeing Don Draper execute an anti-Chaough caper, however, was one of the high points of the season so far. As I've said, I'm generally enjoying the season and the slide into the territory of Dark Don has mostly been quite intriguing. Still, I love some quality 'Mad Men' shenanigans, and it was most welcome to enjoy that jolt of lightness (kudos to David Carbonara for a perfect score) and to be reminded that Don's a really smart, resourceful guy and still fully capable of playing his A game, especially when prodded by an upstart rival.

Betty: The show has not brought her into the mix that frequently in season 4, which is a good thing. I fail to understand what could be gained from making a narrowly drawn character even more narrow and unpleasant. I think that, in theory, we're supposed to care about Betty a bit more by the end of her scene with Sally's therapist, but I don't care. It's well established that she's an immature narcissist, and how she became that way is not of particular interest to me. I hope the show continues to use her sparingly in future. She's a chilly, forbidding presence, an awful mother and I continue to find it odd that a show that packs so many layers and nuances into major and minor characters continues to strip those subtleties away from an important character like Betty. But as long as I don't have to put up with her much, her presence in the show won't necessarily create a major obstacle to me enjoying it.

Sally: Oh Sally. I cannot even imagine how mortifying it must be to have one's budding sexuality discovered by a friend's mother and then be screamed at by other grownups regarding the same topic. Sally's been emotionally abandoned by her parents, devastated by the death of Grandpa Gene and then publicly humiliated on the cusp of her transition to adolescence (there's a lot of talk of humiliation in this episode, but it's poor Sally who has the most dreadfully embarrassing experience). It's a lot for one little girl to deal with, and frankly she's taking it better than expected (more likely, she's too shell-shocked to have much of a reaction -- yet). Her therapist, Doctor Edna, appears to be a caring soul, and thank goodness. This little girl needs someone on her side as she navigates an incredibly tricky terrain. It's heartbreaking to see her try to emulate what her father wants and to explore what she herself might want -- only to be hurt and ridiculed every step of the way.

Faye: As James Poniewozik mentioned in the weekly podcast I do with Ryan McGee, Faye's a really interesting character this season. Like Lane, she's not particularly in any faction or on any team. But she's an attractive woman in Don's orbit and of course he's bound to hit on her, as he does in the next episode. But it's interesting to see Don prove her theories by opening up to her about his problems over a glass of sake in the office kitchen. I think Don is both attracted to her intelligence and a little afraid of the fact that she stands up for her own ideas and doesn't necessarily let him win arguments. Faye, like Peggy, is in some tricky territory as she tries to hold her own in a mostly male world, and I get the sense the show is just starting to explore her role at SCDP and (possibly) in Don's life. That resemblance to Anna does strike me every time I see her.

Pete: It's not only good to see Pete forcefully make his case about the wisdom of pursuing Japanese clients, it's heartening to see Don agreeing with him. Pete's still capable of losing his cool, but he's also able to see the bigger picture, and his (probably correct) parsing of Roger's motivations -- some of which are real, some of which involve job protection -- is what sets Roger off. We're always touchiest about the things we'd rather not admit, right? (Sidebar: In fisticuffs between Roger and Pete, who would win? Though, let's face it, WASP vs WASP wouldn't make for much of a bout.)

Season 4, Episode 6: 'Waldorf Stories'

I talked quite a bit about this episode in the weekly 'Mad Men' podcast that I do with Ryan McGee, so check that out if you care to, but I still had a few more thoughts I wanted to share here.

As others have said, there was a lot of meta-commentary about awards in this episode, maybe verging on too much. Overall, however, it was another solid outing, one that saw Pete and Peggy asserting their power -- Pete because he wanted to, Peggy because she had to.

It was an episode that navigated some difficult, almost jarring turns -- from the fizziness of the awards ceremony to the drunken and strangely frantic pitch meeting to the moroseness of Lost Weekend Don, and all the while we got flashbacks of Past Don and Past Roger, which showed us how much of Don's career was a result of luck, persistence and possible deception.

Joan accurately pointed out when Roger turned the corner from fun to self-pitying, but the real lynchpin of the episode was the Life pitch meeting, which was a strange, funny and ultimately sad parody of all those great Don Draper pitches of the yore. A keyed-up, drunk Don thinks he can just coast on the fumes of his own past and win over the clients through sheer charm, but his charm isn't want it used to be, and his invocation of "nostalgia" -- a word he used so eloquently in season 1's 'The Wheel' is almost grotesque (as Poniewozik wrote this week, it's Don's glorious past replayed as farce). The only thing that saves Don is the fact that the client loves the hacky tagline he inadvertently stole from Danny, the hapless job-seeker.

Sure, that time Don managed to make the potential client happy, but the look of concern on Pete's face spoke volumes. He thought the team pitching Life in that condition was a terrible idea, and he was right. Don's taken risky or even flat-out dangerous chances in the past -- recall him picking up the hitchhikers last season, or driving drunk with Bobbie, among many other escapades. But at work, we've usually seen him take measured, calculated risks, hoping to wow clients with what they weren't expecting.

That Life pitch was something else entirely. When his first tagline tanked, he really had nothing else and he flailed. Don Draper flailed! It's still a little bit shocking.

The Don who always had a Plan B, at least in that kind of setting, was nowhere to be seen. People in the office are willing to put up with a certain amount of personal drama, but if they see many more near-disastrous performances like that and the knives will soon be out for him. As Peggy pointed out at the start of the season, they all took this big risk because of him. Whatever baggage he's carrying, he can't treat pitch meetings like a joke or a game and count on skating by.

The Don of the past, however, is quite reminiscent of the Pete and Peggy of the present -- resourceful, tough and charming when necessary. Peggy's scenes with the blowhard art director were comedically pleasing; I loved how she responded to his "free spirit" sexism with her own bold, naked gesture. He's unlikely to question her leadership again, and given that they both carry resentment about not being recognized for their work, perhaps they can even find some common ground as colleagues.

Pete is also beginning to use the skills he has; he brings Ken Cosgrove in and (perhaps mistakenly) assume he'll be able to retain the upper hand over his former Sterling Cooper colleague. I wouldn't necessarily count Ken out, however, and Pete shouldn't assume Lane (who played Pete beautifully by stroking his ego) has his back. It'll be interesting to see how the latest round of Ken vs. Pete plays out.

Peggy, on the other hand, must be shocked at the state of her former (and current) mentor, Don. She's got to clean up his mess after the Life meeting, and seeing Don in his post-Doris state must have thrown her a little.

Did Don really see himself in his post-Doris state, however? It's hard to tell. Is he willing to truly acknowledge how sad his personal life has become? To have lost an entire day and with a waitress named Doris -- as Dick Whitman, no less -- those aren't the actions of a man out celebrating a win, those are the actions of a man on a scary trajectory.

The Don of the early '50s would have been shocked to see the state of 1965 Don. Even when he first met Roger, Don had a lot of darkness in him, but he also had energy, drive and focus, all of which seem to be in short supply these days. But Don's predicaments -- and the collisions and collusions of all of these characters -- certainly make for good drama.