I’ve read a few critiques of Sunday’s episode now, notably the TV Club on Slate, the Onion AV Club, and Alan Sepinwall from HitFix. They each mention how rotten Don was to his secretary Allison after their drunken couch tryst, and how deplorable and unlikable Don has become. But the truth is, he’s never been a protagonist we can collectively root for; we just WANT to because we’ve come to know him and empathize for his whore-child past. Even the characters who don’t get the benefit of dramatic irony find him endearing, in spite of his issues. Entertainment Weekly:
Don reminds me of the main character from the terrific novel The Irresistible Henry House about an orphaned practice baby that grows up in the care of rotating mothers as part of a college home economics program. He charms his caregivers as he takes from them, yet never learns how to attach as a child nor as a man. Don is a practice baby! Women want to care for him, patch him back together somehow.
Think about his actions in the past few seasons: Driving his half-brother Adam to suicide, being a general cad to his wife - from “listening in” on her conversations with the shrink to the occasional physical rough-up; the “you people” condemnation of Sal Romano after he didn’t give into the client’s gay advances, too many lash-outs on Pete and Peggy to count, and now, the cold dismissal (and cash exchange) of his secretary after she uh, opens up.
He’s not likable, but he never was. A lot of what we like in him may have been part of the narrative he wrote for himself, the one that (we’re painfully aware) is a sham. Stripped of all the construction, you have a man whose personal life is in free fall, who’s drinking more, scoring less and hurting people (Secretary Allison) who genuinely care for him.
That said, why all the disappointment in Don? Why should we expect anything more of someone who’s so obviously damaged? Those of us who naturally root for him - that means we’re against the interests of other characters, many who depend on him.
The answer is huge,
Elise
