'It’s the Real Thing'

‘Mad Men’ ends its groundbreaking run on an ambiguous note

[Author’s note: This review contains spoilers.]

Don Draper would like to buy the world a Coke. 

At least, that’s one way to interpret the end of “Mad Men,” which AMC put to rest on May 17. Creator Matthew Weiner closed the series with what he’s called “the greatest commercial ever made,” a 1971 Coca-Cola ad that co-opted the good vibes of the era’s new age movement.

“It’s the real thing,” sings a diverse cast of young people, all holding bottles of Coke on a grassy hilltop.

In the context of the series, it’s damn near impossible to read the commercial as anything but a cynical comment on Draper’s character (Jon Hamm) and the ad industry. The series engine has always been Draper’s search for meaning and happiness as he lived a life fraudulent to the core, and this last episode finally dismantles the Draper façade and brings Dick Whitman (Draper’s real identity) into full sunlight. 

After leaving advertising a few episodes back and hitting the road for California, Draper/Whitman learns his ex-wife, Betty (January Jones), is dying of lung cancer. Distraught, he ends up at an ocean-side spiritual retreat at the behest of Stephanie, the niece of the real Don Draper and the only person left who knows the real Dick Whitman. 

Our last few minutes with Whitman are an emotional reckoning. After Stephanie abandons him, he breaks down. He calls Peggy (Elisabeth Moss), his protégé and closest ally in New York, with a tearful confession.

“I broke all my vows,” he says. “I scandalized my child. I took another man’s name. And I made nothing of it.” 

Whitman tells Peggy “goodbye,” and for a moment it seems he’s preparing for suicide. But in a group therapy session, a middle-aged office drone shares his despair as someone destined to plod through life unnoticed—the anti-Don Draper. Overcome by sudden empathy, Whitman embraces and cries with the man.

Draper/Whitman is the ostensible star of the show, but the finale isn’t all about him. Joan (Christina Hendricks) and Peggy have satisfying, upbeat send-offs—a relief after a decade of uphill battles. As a career woman in a man’s world, Peggy’s had little room for love and romance, while Joan has been used and abused by clients and co-workers. In the closing episodes, Peggy proved herself as a serious ad woman at McCann-Erickson, and Joan broke free of the ad world and found a seemingly decent man (Bruce Greenwood). So it’s somewhat shocking when Weiner pulls a switcheroo in the finale’s last few minutes. Peggy realizes she’s in love with Stan (Jay Ferguson)—her best friend and co-worker—and Joan ultimately chooses a new career over her relationship. 

These about-faces extend to other characters as well. Fast-living Pete (Vincent Kartheiser), who’d abandoned his family for the city life, realizes he’s still in love with his ex-wife, Trudy (Alison Brie). They reunite, and he leaves the trappings of New York for a quiet life in Wichita. Roger (John Slattery) takes another step toward accepting his mortality by finally settling down with a woman his own age. Uncharacteristically, “Mad Men” seems determined to leave the audience with hope (as evidenced by Weiner glossing over Betty’s fatalistic acceptance of her coming death—the one subplot arguably given short shrift). 

But back to that Coke ad. The final moments show Whitman on the beach in group meditation. 

“A new day, a new you,” the group leader says. 

Whitman “Oms” with the group. The hint of a serene smile breaks, and Weiner cuts to the Coke commercial.

The finale takes place in the fall of 1970. McCann-Erickson, the same agency Whitman walked out on earlier in the show, released the Coke ad in 1971. It seems that Whitman, fueled by a newfound clarity, returns to New York as Don Draper, where he exploits the new age aesthetic to create the greatest television commercial of all time. One read is that people never change—Draper’s spiritual epiphany is fleeting. Another is that his new inner peace gives rise to his masterpiece. In recent interviews, Weiner has insisted on an optimistic interpretation. Then again, in using a Coke commercial, it’s possible he’s contractually barred from painting the company in a negative light (including his references to the commercial in the press).

Either way, it’s a beautiful, poetic ending. Like the series, it’s ambiguous and understated; like Draper himself, it harbors a deep sadness and fundamental phoniness. 

For more from Joshua, check out his interview with Bobby Lorton and Ziva Branstetter of new media enterprise The Frontier, his peek into the elder Bill Hader's Tulsa Artists Services and his rundown of quality under-the-radar TV.