“You’re born alone and you die alone and this world just drops a bunch of rules on top of you to make you forget those facts. But I never forget. I’m living like there’s no tomorrow, because there isn’t one.” – Don Draper, “Mad Men.”
Sunday night marked the return of one of the greatest TV shows of all time, “Mad Men.” The second to last season coincides with the fourth season of another “TV Golden Age” gem, “Game of Thrones.” In evaluating a show, one of the first things I look for is how it treats death. I do this mainly because too many shows often exploit death and ultimately cheapen it as a result.
I bring up “Mad Men” and “Game of Thrones” as exemplary examples not only because they’re both returning for buzz-worthy seasons but like “Breaking Bad,” “The Sopranos,” “The Wire” and “True Detective,” death is not used as a cliché or a “gotcha” moment. No offense to Carter Bays and Craig Thomas from “How I Met Your Mother,” but the “shocking twist” of the mother’s death somehow negated over nine seasons of buildup by making Ted pretty much the worst widower of all time. If he was telling the kids about the mother to somehow keep her memory alive, he did a pretty horrific job.
“Game of Thrones” and “Mad Men” discuss death the way it’s meant to be discussed: not as a convenient plot device but as a harsh, universal truth. What makes them genius is how differently they go about doing this. “Game of Thrones” is fantasy, and thus free from the restrictions of the real world. The world of Westeros depicts an amoral society devoid of morals and ruled by unchecked power, creating an dangerous environment for every one of its inhabitants. It is a caution for the powerful never to overstep their boundaries or risk creating a world where life and death is decided on the flip of a coin.
Despite its public perception as more “meditative” than its sister program “Breaking Bad” and current time-slot rival “Game of Thrones,” “Mad Men” talks about death even more than “Thrones” might. In almost every scene we’re reminded of the great arc of the show’s main character: death follows Don Draper. Think about how much death has influenced the almost mythic journey Don Draper/ Dick Whitman has taken. His mother died in childbirth. His father was kicked by a horse and killed in front of him. He accidentally sets off the events that killed the real Don Draper in Korea. Even in the safety and luxury of 1960s high-life, death and violence appear as almost supernatural forces in Don’s life: Roger’s heart attack, an employee accidentally cutting a man’s foot off with a lawnmower, his elderly secretary’s in-office death and the suicides of half-brother Adam and partner Lane Pryce. The journey of the show is how much its characters try to avoid the darkness of reality only to fail at the most inopportune times.
We often turn to stories to cope with the harsh truths of reality, death being a big one. Yet, there are so many shows, movies, video games and books out there that use death cheaply, as a way to raise the stakes or to push the characters into a direction desired for reasons outside of coherent storytelling. The mother died on “How I Met Your Mother” so Ted could end up with Robin. Dexter Morgan survived his series finale so they could keep the property alive for future installments. Most procedurals ignore reality in order to have a high-profile murder every week. “Family Guy,” in fact, duped everyone by pretending to kill off Brian Griffin as a way to show just how much abusing character death to build-up stakes doesn’t work … only to suffer the most severe backlash of anyone.
It’s natural to fear death, regardless of race, gender or belief. It’s a bittersweet, tragic reminder of the limitations we face with the short time we are given. More than that, it’s a challenge for every one of us to seek out the right decisions, to live each day with no regret and to one day greet death, not in fear, but as a long-awaited rest at the end of an exhausting yet meaningful journey.
Don’t reduce death to a plot device.