'Mad Men' recap: Christmas waltz, Jaguars and Aly Khan

"Mad Men's" "Christmas Waltz": Late in the year, early in the morning, and Lane Pryce's phone rings. He answers, and a plot is set in motion. The lawyer at the other end tells Lane the news is good, but of course the news is not: Lane has to find $8,000 fast to settle a tax debt.

And there is your basic framework for this puzzling episode.

Here are the basic vectors of a slightly unusual, slightly disconnected "Men," tied so specifically to a day in time -- Dec. 7, 1966, the 25th anniversary of Pearl Harbor. Walt Disney would be dead in a week -- 'course, sort of irrelevant in the reality of this episode -- while a new company called British Motor Holdings would be incorporated the following week as well.

That's not so irrelevant given the fact that BMC had just bought Jaguar, which had fired the ad manager of the U.S. account (after he'd thrown up in someone’s lap at a trade convention). The account is loose again, and there are just a handful of agencies that will mount a pitch: SCDP is one of them.

Meanwhile, International Society for Krishna Consciousness -- just founded in NYC -- had attracted a new member, one Paul Kinsey -- long gone goofball pipe-puffing copywriter (Michael Gladis) who had never been invited to join the new agency a season or two back, which is the same way of saying: he got fired.

Another vector: "Star Trek" had started a couple months earlier, and an avant-garde play,  "America Hurrah," by Jean-Claude van Itallie, is staged at LaMama.

Tie all these threats together and what do we have? Nothing, sorry to say, immediately obvious.

"Christmas Waltz": Based, of course, on the holiday song popularized by everyone from Sinatra to Rosemary Clooney. Seemed to me more of a cultural snapshot of a moment in time rather than a carefully developed episode with elements pointing to or refracting larger themes -- other than the obvious and usual suspects: alienation, self-delusion, narcissism, isolation and so forth.

What's the point of, say, Dec. 7 instead of, say, Dec. 8 -- other than a convenient occasion for Roger to fall in his cups before 8 a.m.? (Important, see below.) Why the return of Paul, other than to further debauch the thoroughly debauched Harry Crane (Rich Sommer)? Why a play that pilloried American consumerism (also Vietnam, though not in that brief stage snapshot we saw last night) other than to establish another wedge between Don and Megan? Why Lane's tax crisis other than to push him further into "Mad Men's" viper pit of lies and deceit?

A few possible answers, below…

- Board of directors' meeting: Absent Roger, who's really in his cups down on “Battleship row.” In a way, Dec. 7 presents its meaning a little more clearly in this moment, for if Roger was to attend the meet, he might have happily -- eagerly -- embraced the early bonus, which would have meant Lane wouldn't have had to forge Don's signature later that night, etc. The $50,000 line of credit secured, all Lane needed was a third vote (his, Cooper's and Roger's). But he didn't get it; strange how history intrudes on human affairs. (Just to remind readers, if a reminder is needed, but Roger is an ex-Navy man who fought in the Pacific theater and retains a deep-seated hatred of the Japanese, though last night his hatred seemed moderated.) Lane later forges the check for $8,000 while that same day Don writes one for $6,000 for the Jag -- a total of $14,000 already sucked from the credit line against earnings that may or may not materialize, and probably won't if Harry's line to Lane about future media billings has any truth. (Media billings, Harry says, "are derived from reality but they're hopes and dreams.")

- Paul Kinsey and "Star Trek": Somehow Paul has figured out what "Star Trek" is all about from watching through a store window on MacDougal Street, and he's "been hard at work" as a result. He has an episode he wants Harry to shop to NBC, "The Negron Complex." Think inversion and race, which in fact were important and indeed huge themes of "Trek's" first groundbreaking season, so maybe Paul saw a lot more through that window than Harry realized. Harry certainly has no intention of taking this to NBC or to anybody --  though instead engineers a ruse that pulls Paul to the West Coast and away from Lakshmi (played by Anna Wood), presumably freeing him to pursue her. (Although that's not entirely clear, but it certainly does look like just another con in an episode with a couple of cons.)

Whatever. Harry’s horny sad little scam -- if that's what it is -- will have the same practical effect. This whole funny/strange side plot with Harry and Paul reveals a whole bunch of things, notably Harry's depravity and Paul's desperation. Peggy's great line that traces Paul's career descent through an alphabet soup of agencies until he ends up at one called "A & P"... "Which agency's A & P?" asks Harry. "THE A & P," she answers.

- Don and Meg's night at the theater with "America Hurrah": Recall the core theme of this series -- of mice and men who get what they want, only to discover that the flip side of dreams-coming-true are nightmares-coming-true. The insidious accretion of deceit, compromise and lies until -- before long -- you don't even know why you wanted it in the first place. Don and Megs are now entering that dark side -- a marriage built on sand, their lives pulling apart in opposite directions. "America Hurrah" -- a damnation of American misadventures overseas and condemnation of a television consumer culture -- is a stick stuck straight into in Don's eye. ('nother reminder: Don's entire existence is based on a remanufacture of himself after going AWOL in Korea...) And why do they even go to the play? So that Megs can see her pal who’s performing in the play as understudy.

- Joan and Aly Khan: Another one of those highly specific references of a distant time with broad meaning -- in this instance a bright shining light on Joan, who flies into a rage when Greg serves her divorce papers at the office. "My mother raised me to be admired," Joan tells Don. Earlier in the episode, Roger had signed that card, "Your mom did a good job, Aly Khan." Playboy Khan was Rita Hayworth's second husband, though she had first become pregnant by him which, in the early '50s, meant a quiet quickie marriage. Joan, like Hayworth: raised to be admired, like a horse or a car or movie star. Her entire being is wrapped up in that great “Mad Men” phrase.

Meanwhile, Joan and Don later spend some quality time together at a local watering hole. Calling it a night, a soused Don slaps down some bills and heads for the exit while a man across the bar admires Joan... Don roars off into the night in a car that "never starts" (Bert’s funny line) and that the agency now owns, assuming the check clears.