Mad Men: season five, episodes one and two – A Little Kiss

SPOILER ALERT: This blog is for those who are watching season five of Mad Men on Sky Atlantic. Don't read on if you haven't seen the opening double bill

Catch up on our season four blogs

"Dissatisfaction is a symptom of ambition. It's the coal that fuels the fire" – Trudy Campbell

Welcome back to May 1966. Apparently there's barely been a joke told since we were last at Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, but the issues that have been slowly (oh, so slowly) coming to the fore the past four seasons have not gone away.

The epigraph above is delivered by a loyal wife to her striving husband. And to think, all Pete Campbell needed to make him happy was an office. Well, this week at least. The alacrity with which Pete went from basking in the sunlight coming through his very own window, to springing a spiteful little prank on Roger Sterling, shows the boy's appetites and ambitions lie simply in winning, whatever the contest.

However, what makes the women of Mad Men happy, what satisfies their ambitions, is a far more interesting question than what satisfies the men – and it always has been. It's also to the fore in this double-length season opener. Peggy is at the centre, of course, but I think we know what kind of journey she is on and there was nothing particularly revelatory about her narrative this week. Joan and Megan, however, were set directly against each other: the married "sex kitten" who's got herself a career she never asked for and no interest in kids and oh, the married "sex kitten" who has a child she never asked for and a career she has no interest in losing.

Joan, in the early years of this drama, was the office female the men desired, in more ways than one. She was an object of sexual fantasy – but also a mother figure, a stern manager of the secretary pool and, perhaps most importantly, someone who knew their place. Joan seemed happy with that herself, to begin with. But marriage, the rise of Peggy and the changing times saw Joan aspire to more and – with the founding of a new company – achieve it. In A Little Kiss, however, we see her desperately anxious about her status; a new mother worried about losing her career, interpreting a practical joke as a coded attempt to sack her. She's not unhappy as a mother, that much is made very clear, but she's desperate for that not to be all.

Now take Megan. A former secretary, she is now effectively an associate copywriter. She is her own woman in the office, taking orders only from the boss, talking to her colleagues (notably Peggy) as equals. In her relationship with Don she too projects confidence, one half of a happy, successful couple. Not her man's appendage. Then she goes and throws him a birthday party. It goes well – her charisma holding the room together, her sexuality a quality that entrances at least half the room. Don's response, however, is one of unconquerable strop. Suddenly he withdraws all the lovey-dovey mannerisms, indeed any expression of empathy whatsoever. And Megan is immediately undone. She is confronted by the limit of her powers. Don won't bend on his feelings about the party and, when it comes to make-up sex, it's very much taken rather than given.

Does Megan kick against this change of status? No, and a post-coital discussion of a rug serves to signal a change in Megan's understanding of her life with Don. The rug has been ruined by the party, but Don isn't bothered. "I thought you wanted it?" she asks him, reminding him of the day it was bought. "I just wanted you to have what you want," he replies. She looks in his eyes, apparently almost uncertain of how to take it and then she kisses him. Just another kept woman.

Joan meanwhile is back in the office, anticipating her professional end. Instead an almost overcome Lane, who never saw Joan in her old light and always recognised her abilities, confesses the truth before exclaiming "the books have practically been held together with spit in your absence". That's an Englishman's way with a compliment, and a grateful Joanie wells up.

This week's brief notes

Is Lane a gentleman? Of course he's more complicated than that but I think we might see more of the ever-so-prim Mr Pryce getting into uncomfortable, erotic moments. And by uncomfortable, I mean for the audience.

Where's Betty? And just how miserable is she? In her first shot (I'm hoping next week), I expect to see her kicking a cat.

Has Harry Crane lost weight? I think the answer to that is yes. He also seems to have got younger. I could barely recognise him when he first popped up at the party.

The boys at Young and Rubicam, as well as dumping water bombs, also had placards in their office reading: "Want more $? Then get a job!" Was anyone else reminded of this?

Culture club

Zou Bisou Bisou – as much as I'd love to bang on about it (I hate French chanson, it kills me), the Daily Mail have already done a full article on Mrs Draper's charged karaoke.

"And so we take advantage of this new micro-photography and high-speed camera ..." That's Peggy getting technical on the Heinz boys in an attempt to enhance her 'bean ballet' concept. It doesn't work, but as ever Peggy is in tune with the times. From a quick scan of "From Microns to Nanometers: Early Landmarks in the Science of Scanning Electron Microscope Imaging" I can see that research into micro-photography was all the rage in the 1960s, with the first commercial product, the Stereoscan, going to market in 1965. Whether Peggy's plan involved such kit or just the impression of it, it was certainly a buzz topic, and among her beatnik set too. Artists such as Robert Rauschenberg were already experimenting in audio-visual techniques such as optic-fibre cameras and infra-red images, to create new forms of art. Imagine how team Heinz would have responded to that.

Hemline news

I'm not sure I could plot the rise in hemlines across Mad Men's run with any great precision, but I am certain they're awfully high now. Of course, Megan leads the way both at home, in the office and performing at birthday parties. Approximately 5/6ths of her thighs might be on show at any given time. In other news, the men are dressed as they always have. Let's hope for at least one kaftan by the end of the season.

Time stamps

May 1966. Memorial Day weekend to be precise. We've elapsed roughly nine months since season four and in the past month Martin Luther King has given his first speech on the Vietnam war, there have been continued protests against the conflict in the heart of Washington, and the south Vietnamese have lain siege to Da Nang (something Robin Williams would later turn into an Elvis movie). Also, in better news, the Beach Boys have released Pet Sounds.

Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce is an equal opportunities employer – the wording of the company's New York Times ad is not only a barb at the expense of Y&R, it's also a nod to recent civil rights legislation. 1964 saw the establishment of the Equal Opportunity Employment Commission, designed to protect citizens from discrimination on basis of race, colour, religion, sex or national origin. Note, particularly with reference to the not-so-subtle mocking of Megan's birthday band leader, that the protection is not applied on basis of sexual orientation.