Although she agrees to chaperone Bobby on a field trip to a farm, stays up to speed with him during their chat about comic books and even volunteers to take a sip of fresh cow milk, Betty still harps on him for trading their lunch for some candy. Now, Betty’s reaction is perfectly reasonable, but Bobby does not respond in a positive way. He is at an age where he is growing his own autonomy. To be able to do things freely, outside of his mother’s eye, has a sort of thrill for Bobby. However, he is not quite old enough to understand that he has to own up to his mistakes. He only feels guilty about the circumstances.
The irony is that Betty’s hostility toward Bobby for giving away her sandwich is the right, stern thing for a parent to do – but she cares less about being a good mother than being a mother her children like. There is a big difference. I am eager to see Betty try to patch things up with Sally in future episodes, since Jones is superb here. The emotionally devastating final scene with her husband is note perfect.
But, the finest pitch – and the one that does not fail – comes to the pitch-master himself, Don Draper. And, funny enough, he is not begging on his knees for approval. He chats with Roger, who reveals he sorely misses him and wants to see him back in the office. The thing is, Mr. Sterling does not inform the rest of the staff. (The stares Don gets from Lou, Peggy, Joan, Ginsberg and everybody else on the floor bring enough laughs to offset the very serious first half of the episode.)
Don’s journey back into SC&P is one of moderation. It is like he is entering The Twilight Zone. Manley films this return with angles that are slightly off, showing how the agency has shifted so slightly with Don absent, and to show the character’s nervousness as he heads back to work. Once Don makes his presence known, the camera tilts back to normality. (Welcome back.)
Another marvelous thing about Don’s pitch is how he does not pitch at all. He sits back in the boardroom, taking in the new limitations – no drinking in the office, and even worse, he reports to Lou now – while configuring how the politics at the agency work. He takes it in, about as nonchalantly as he does to the giddy staff that is so happy to see him again, and realizes that starting again may be the best thing after all.
The return is full of suspense – a disarmingly long pause before he enters that meeting – and dark humour, with a Cliosnubbed Peggy trying to stand tall over her old boss. “Well, I can’t say that we miss you,” she snipes at him, making us wonder if the writers are making us despise Moss’s character this season for a reason. Regardless, her pitying words do not matter. Don may not be the man in power, but he has a job.
As Cutler asks Harry in the week’s weakest subplot, “are you aware your self-pity is distasteful?” It is a question that we could have asked any of the three characters pitching to renew their job this week. The only one who does not put on a guise that takes their board of executives aback, though, is Don. At the end, he is the one who gets what he sought out for. In short, he is experienced. Cue Jimi Hendrix over the credits and “Field Trip” becomes another game-changer of an episode for a series with too few hours left.
