AMC’s Mad Men is a show about empty promises.
In his iconic Lucky Strike presentation from the very first episode of the series, Don says that they can say whatever they want about their product. He comes up with “It’s Toasted”, a slogan that promises smokers that these cigarettes are somehow different and better than the others.
But they’re not. They’re just cigarettes, and they still cause cancer.
There’s no escape from this fact.
This theme is repeated throughout the show. In the Season 1 finale, Don brands Kodak’s new circular projector as “The Carousel”. It’s not a wheel, he says, but a time machine that promises to transport you back to a simpler, better time.
But it can’t. It’s just a slide projector. It can only show images of the past, not bring it back.
There is no escape from the present.
When Peggy works on a campaign for the fast food chain Burger Chef, her campaign promises potential customers a modern dinner table – a place where families can bond and share their lives without the distraction of televisions.
But it’s not. It’s just fast food. It can’t replace the intimacy and warmth of a home-cooked meal.
There is no escape from the reality of modern life.
Even Don’s personal life is full of empty promises of change. He is a man who constantly tries to reinvent himself to escape from his past. He “changes” his name from Dick Whitman to Don Draper, marries and divorces twice, moves from New York to California and back, and experiments with different women and lifestyles.
But despite the promises behind each of these events, he can’t change who he is. He’s still Dick, a poor boy from a broken home who ran away from war and the Midwest life. He can’t escape from his guilt, shame, loneliness, or emptiness.
He can’t escape from his brother Adam, who haunts him even after committing suicide.
He can’t escape from his addiction to alcohol, cigarettes, or sex.
He can’t escape from his profession, which requires him to lie and manipulate people for money.
He can’t escape from himself.
The show ends with Don at a hippie retreat in California, where he seems to have a promising moment of enlightenment.
He hugs a stranger who shares his feelings of alienation and despair. He meditates on a cliff overlooking the ocean.
He smiles.
But he doesn’t really change. He doesn’t really find peace. He just finds another way to sell something.
He uses the hippie culture and its ideals of love and harmony to create an ad for Coke, one of the most iconic and profitable brands in history.
He says that Coke is “the real thing”, promising that it will bring people together and make them happy.
But it doesn’t. It’s just sugar water.
There’s no escaping that.