Befitting a television
show about the dark art of advertising, Mad Men boasts irresistible
surfaces, from the sharp suits and Good Housekeeping dresses to the fussy
production design that lovingly recreates Madison Avenue in 1960. The show
inhabits a world both seductive and sinister, but what sets it apart is the
substance behind the shimmering exteriors. Mad Men creator Matthew Weiner
imbues his ad men, suburban moms, and single gals with a depth more common to
literature than television. Supporting characters that initially appear as mere
sharply drawn caricatures emerge as staggeringly complex figures. The
protagonist's picture-perfect trophy wife (January Jones), for example, grows
infinitely more compelling once it becomes apparent that her façade masks quiet
suffering and madness. At least half a dozen supporting characters merit their
own spin-offs, from Christina Hendricks as an office vamp who's figured out all
the angles to Vincent Kartheiser as a weasely striver who sublimates his
thwarted literary desires into Machiavellian maneuvering.
