Mad Men

I’m worried about “Mad Men.”

The AMC drama may seem to be doing fine – in fact, it’s the frontrunner in the race for its fourth subsequent best dramatic series Emmy. But I fear that this year may be “Mad Men’s” last chance at that prize, and really this hiatus may have permanently damaged the show’s dramatic potential.

The show has been off the air for a full calendar year now. That type of hiatus smacks of backstage drama, and creator/showrunner Matthew Weiner has provided plenty, from demanding more money to threatening the size of the cast. It’s not entirely his fault – arguments with Weiner were the first of many AMC show troubles in recent news – but Weiner may not have realized that the fate of his show gets more and more perilous the longer “Mad Men” is off the air.

This may seem unfathomable considering that more than any other, “Mad Men” is the show that has executives scrambling to find a suitable knockoff. This fall, two new shows on NBC and ABC are attempting to capitalize on the 60’s fever with primetime dramas “The Playboy Club” and “Pan Am.” The latter is even airing on “Mad Men’s” traditional timeslot – Sundays at 10pm. Both shows seem to think that merely copping the time and place “Mad Men” takes place will result in similar critical accolades. So far, “The Playboy Club” has already been almost universally panned, with most reviewers citing the elements cribbed most directly from “Mad Men” as among its weakest. “Pan Am” has fared somewhat better, but the addition of a thriller angle has weakened the chance for the pilot to develop its characters. Conversely, BBC’s “The Hour” seems to take the best elements from “Mad Men,” incorporate a bit of “Broadcast News,” and get the espionage angle right. By all accounts, “The Hour” is a smart, stylish hour of tensely plotted, quickly moving television. How is it that three shows so radically different can all have the same comparison point? Nary an article about “The Playboy Club,” “Pan Am,” or “The Hour” have neglected to mention “Mad Men” as a primary influence and a barometer of quality. What is so indefinable about “Mad Men?”

Part of the problem may be that despite its capture of the zeitgeist, “Mad Men” is still not a popular show. Unlike, say “Lost” or “The Office,” both of which spawned dozens of imitators and launched the careers of several members of their large ensembles, “Mad Men” is not commercially popular. A critical smash, yes. But even its most highly rated episodes, such as its second season premiere, only draw 2.1 million or so viewers. Most of that has to do with its place on AMC, which generally pulls far lower numbers than a major network, which frequently average 10 or so million viewers on their most popular shows. Part of it also could have to do with its slow burn pacing, where plot developments refuse to pay off until the final few episodes of the season. But mostly I think it’s because “Mad Men” is exactly the type of show people say they’re watching without actually doing it.

“Mad Men” has permeated the culture, be it through the re-emergence of mid-sixties fashion, furniture, or attitude. But what hasn’t captured the public’s attention is the actual plot and characters. Interest in the actual drama of “Mad Men” has taken a backseat to the various aesthetics and nostalgia associated with the setting and fetishized time period. The cast of once no-name actors has been able to find steady supporting parts in film and theater, but undoubtedly the most successful breakout is the indefinable essence of leading character Don Draper. The “Draper” name evokes “Mad Men’s” first season, all about setting into place the careful hierarchy But while most pop culture literates probably recognize Don Draper’s name, less probably are aware of how profoundly Weiner and crew have been diminishing the idealization of his character. Leading man Jon Hamm, handsome as he may be, has been excellent when called to show the cracks underneath the Teflon Don exterior. Those who may claim to be fans possibly don’t even know that several seasons ago it was revealed that the man calling himself Don Draper is actually a fraud, a poor backwoods baby named Dick Whitman. The show, much as it may seem to be glamorizing Draper, actually is making a case that men like him aren’t from another place, aren’t from another time – they never existed at all. That assertion is far more profound than the show is generally given credit for. The elements of the plot – adultery, lying, illicit pregnancy, and the omnipresent “big account” tend towards the soapy. But they unfold so slowly and deliberately that there is plenty of time to be critical about the status of women in the working force, or the role a distant father plays in raising emotionally fragile children. It’s disappointing that “Mad Men” will likely live or die by how long the obsession with the midcentury culture lasts, and not the strength of the characters and writing.

Now, I’m not saying “Mad Men” should be given carte blanche to continue forever. The writers and actors (not to mention the brilliant production and costume designers) need to move on, and the brief interest in 60’s reflection will undoubtedly fade. But my worry stems from the threat that this brilliant, patient, rewarding show might be overlooked and left to wither and die just as the creative people behind it are starting to disarm the glamor and style of its era and really dig into those characters, making them real, tragic human beings. With that, I am left hoping that even if “Boardwalk Empire” dethrones “Mad Men” on September 18th, that AMC can stop being preoccupied with selling the show’s flashy exteriors and just enjoy the drama when it returns in 2012.