I really think this is now a legit avenue of criticism.  Celebrities are not only jumping back and forth between TV and movies and streaming and podcasts and sometimes stage and a lot of the time COMMERCIALS; that their performances in these advertisements should indeed be reviewed.  Some actors have started out in commercials and remained there...for decades...for example "Flo" from Progressive Insurance.  Why that might be considered a TV show in and of itself.  I'm particularly enjoying the work of "Doug" from the Liberty Mutual commercials and now "Actor Dude," also from Liberty.  They both have made me laugh out loud.  I just found out that "Doug" and I are fellow B.U. alums!  My husband wanted to know if the Emu went there too!  Tanner Novlan is the name of the actor essaying the "Struggling Actor" character.  I really like this fellow.  He doesn't take himself too seriously. Let's take a look!

But we also have the mega-stars who started small and then became "Movie Stars" and then, like in Jake Gyllenhaal's case--I think we can all agree--SUPERSTARS.  So, when someone like Jake does a commercial, there's a lot of "baggage" that comes along with it.  I mean, I'm sure these stars don't really want to do commercials, but nowadays they sort of can't, not do them.  Everything in the Entertainment-Biz has been restructured (whether intentionally or not) to sort of trap them into doing it, simply because it now seems to be one of (if not the most) important revenue streams for even people like Jake Gyllenhaal.  So let's review one of his "performances" for the Prada company.  Here is a spot for one of their sunglass lines:

What to make of this?  Jake G. emerging from some kind of futuristic structure (a tent?) on a mountaintop to aimlessly wander about and then stare off into space (stare at the sun?  Are these eclipse watching specs?) while weirdly "futuristic" synth music burbles over the scene.  How can we interpret this as a "story"?  A narrative?
Well...we can't.
But we can break it down!
One of the first things I noticed at the very beginning, before you don the sunglasses (I will be addressing you directly, Mr. Gyllenhaal, at any given moment) is that you appear to be slightly cross-eyed.  Now, as I have never noticed this at any time prior to or since this 2023 spot, I have to chalk it up to bad lighting.

Also, your make-up is not exactly en-pointe.  Which is fine with me.  I mean, we can see some of the real human stuff.  Forehead creases, a mole or two, circles below the eyes, what appears to be a chicken pox scar (I have one in nearly the same spot!)...It makes you seem more real.  I suspect that you may color your hair/beard; and that's fine too.  My beard is now approaching true Santa Claus white, so I color it, quite often.  You probably have a lot of grey by now.  In any event, you look great, which, arguably you never actually could not look great.  It would be hard to purposely make you not look great, let alone accidentally.  The thing about your face, Jake, is that it just dances on the verge of looking a little goofy; and I think this is what the camera and the public loves about you.  
As a matter of fact, there is a certain style of gay male themed animation/cartooning/anime etc. that has exactly that look that you possess.  Handsome and sexy and inviting; but just a little "derpy"; as the kids say.  For example:

I mean, if you put on another 50 pounds or so Jake, you could be the dude on the left.  Which brings us to the gay element of all this.  First of all, I am making no assumptions about you Jake.  Whoever makes it on to your hall pass list is yours and nobody else's business.  Certainly not mine.  But I am gay and I play a gay in real life.  I've also played gay on stage; that is, if you count "Brick" from Cat On a Hot Tin Roof (incidentally, I'm playing "Big Daddy" right now in that same play (another blog!)).  And you too have played a gay on the silver screen, most famously.  And actually, perhaps quite recently, as your characterization of "Bronco Beauregard," along with Henry Cavill's "Sid" was just this short of being The Ambiguously Gay Duo.  And yes, I saw the picture at the movies (another blog!).

I mean, were Bronco and Sid doing more than just cleaning their guns together, or not?  I think that movie would've been 1000 times more interesting if it had just went there.  Or gone there.  Or you'd gone there.  With Henry.  I mean Sid.  And if it had, I think it could've been boffo box office.  The two of you, fully, fowardly frontal?  Heated Rivalry, anyone?  And I can't help but be put in mind of Brokeback Mountain with your character's name "Bronco."  Whether or not this was intentional is another matter.  Or another blog, for that matter: The Not So Closeted Homo-erotica in the Cinema of Guy Ritchie: An Explortation.
Might I suggest a Heated Rivalry between Holmes and Watson in the next installment of Mr. Ritchie's take on that IP?

Oh, but that's not your franchise, Jake; although I think you'd make a fantastic foil for those two.  And also, a thrilling third for a thirsty thrupple!!!
I'm getting off track.  Sort of.  Let's go back to the Prada ad.  So, you glance up and then we cut to your point of view, which is presumably this:

Now, what is this?  A structure of some kind, clearly.  A shelter.  A tent?  You seem to be looking at the backside(!) of it.  But when we saw you in the very first shot, it appears to be behind you.  Then you seem to be sitting inside it as you put on the sunglasses (which is shot from your rear(!) and then it seems you're walking around it; so now we must assume that the time-lapse is not linear.  The timeline is splintered, like in a Nicholas Roeg film.  So it's all about impressions, I suppose.  Meant to provoke feelings.  Like...what...?  The relief of knowing that you won't have to squint when you're mountain climbing with these glasses?  Or that you'll look totes fly when you're up on a lonely mountain top?  I looked up the meaning of "Linea Rosso" and found out that it means "Red Line" in Italian.  Also, "Luna Rossa" which means "Red Moon" in the same language and is also the name of a Prada fragrance which you are also a "brand ambassador" for.  And all of this ties into Prada's ownership of a sailing team that competes in The America's Cup.  Red Line is the name of Prada's high end "sport" line (which I assume you are wearing here, Jake) and Red Moon is a reference to the inspiration for the sailing team.  So these things are all tied together.  I guess we should watch the perfume commercial too:

So the Prada "film" seen above was directed by a Swedish national.  And I believe you are a Swede, Jake.  Hold on...HEY HAL, IS JAKE G. A SWEDE?

Wow.  I'm just learning all kinds of stuff.  So like, half Swedish, and noble, no less; and "born with a lazy eye."  So, it wasn't the lighting?  Also, my first novel has a character in it who is a Jewish boy with a lazy eye.  Jake, I think I know who needs to play "Jack McNamara" in the movie version of 83 in the Shade!  But see, now I have all kinds of questions about all of this.  'F'rinstance, does Sweden have a sailing team that competes in the America's Cup?  HEY HAL...No, wait...now I'm going down all this America's Cup rabbit warrens.  I guess what it comes down to is why your very American face is the face of the Italian sailing team.  And why is a Swedish director and not an Italian director doing the commercials?  Why are you, Jake, shown on a high tech sailing boat by yourself when we know that that is most decidedly a team sport.  I'm coming up with movie ideaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaasssssssss....
But let's get back to that tent on that mountain top, shall we?

Ooops!  Wrong tent!  Wrong mountain!
OR IS IT1??!!!
I mean, putting Jake Gyllenhaal on a mountain, next to a "tent" (if that tent-like structure in the Prada spot is in fact, a "tent") can only evoke thoughts of this film.  And who woulda thought that we'd still be talking about this movie 20 years later.  That a line from it would have entered the PopCulture Lexicon.  And where is the sequel?  Or the prequel? Admittedly it would be a challenge for any kind of redux, since Jake's character dies in the movie and Heath Ledger actually died in real life.  How about this?  Jack Twist has a heretofore unbeknownst to anyone, "identical cousin" who is also gay.  Or at least super-bi curious.  He is also a private detective and he wants to get to the bottom(!) of what happened to his cousin back in 1983.  So, since the first movie ended in 1983 and 20 years have gone by, it would now be 2003 in that timeline, which is just about when the first movie actually came out.  Ennis Del Mar has since passed on, but his wife and Anne Hathaway are still around.  During the course of his investigation "Judge Twist" (that's the identical cousin's name--your character, Jake) encounters the mysterious and elusive mountain man, Jebediah Maxwell, played by...oh, how about...Devan Chandler Long?

Does Jebediah know more than he's letting on?  Is he keeping family secrets that may be connected to the death of Jack Twist, lo those many years ago?  Is he keeping his own secrets? Does he want to give Judge a tour past his tent flaps?  Will the pair bring out things in the other that have heretofore been hidden?  Will anybody bring out full-frontal?  Or at least bare-buttage?
I betcha Devan would absolutely GO THERE in his pursuit of bringing the character of Jebediah to life...what an ACTOR is meant to do!  Hey, I'd go see it!  The working title is: BACK TO BROKEBACK.  I love this for us Jake!  But now, back to the Prada commercial...
So after Jake puts on the sunglasses, he steps forward, peers skyward takes a few steps and then just stands there.  No emotions register on his visage.  It is an absolute blank.  What is he thinking?  Where is he?  How does he feel about where he is?  What he's looking at?  His situation?  I can't help but think of a classic film experiment wherein a director posited that through film grammar or cinematic intuition; that an audience will supply their own motivations to an image of a person depending on what they (the face on the screen) are/is looking at; or what the film cuts to; even when the neutral face never changes.  For example, if we cut from Jake's neutral stare to a shot of say, a table with food on it; we (the viewer) will make the connection that he is  more than likely hungry.  Please hold while I find some more details on this...
Yeah, okay...here it is: The Kuleshov Effect.  Here's a quick video all about it:

I think we could easily apply the Kuleshov Effect to Jake's close-ups in the Prada Sunglasses spot.  But what could we have him looking at; because in the Prada spot, we never really cut to a shot of what Jake is looking at, which makes it all the more empty of meaning.  Let's try it...

So if we think of the above images as three linear shots...what do we (the viewer), imagine that Jake is thinking about?
Is he remembering Heath Ledger?  Is he now the character he played, "Jack Twist" remembering Heath's character, "Ennis"?  Perhaps because all of this is taken out of any kind of context, it really is non-interpretable; but I think, none the less, a fascinating and thought provoking exercise.  That being said; I think that because Jake is so "neutral" throughout the entire 15 seconds of the Linea Rossa Eyewear spot, that we (or maybe just "me") can fill in all those metaphysical narrative blanks with ideas of my own.  And "fill in" I will!!!
What if Jake was actually at the base camp 1 on Mount Everest in the commercial, because that idea keeps coming into my head.  I know!  Let's make up a movie, based around that idea!
Here's the idea:
The movie is called Code Name: Hillary and in it, Jake plays an international playboy and man of intrigue and gentleman thief (to name but a few) who has stolen zillions of dollars in jewels from various and sundry European museums.  In fact, the movie opens with a heart pounding scene of one of your (yes, you Jake) daring capers where you and your partner in crime, diminutive and legendary "second story man" Elijah Wood, escape (just barely) with some bejeweled tiaras (or whatever).  After nearly being caught you are forced to go your separate ways.  Oh, your character's name is Charlie Hillary and Elijah is Mischa Orlinski (he's Eastern European--don't worry Elijah, you will nail the accent!) I may be using these names interchangeably.  So Mischa goes to Switzerland to launder the jewels by putting them in a safe deposit box.  He has the account number tattooed (in you guys's secret code) in his armpit.  You lay low for a year or so.  We FADE TO BLACK and then we see the title card: ONE YEAR LATER.  Mischa is now casing a mark at a luxury base camp on Mt. Everest.  There is now a third character in the mix.  She is INTERPOLS number one target, being the most skilled and elusive GENTLELADY PLAYGIRL THIEF in the world.  She is known only by her code name: LADY X.  She will be played by Rihanna:

Ms. Ri-Ri will also sing the movie's theme song: "Your Love is Like a Diamond in the Sky."*
So, in Act 2, Mischa meets his maker at bottom of an Everestian crevasse, possibly at the hands of Lady X.  Charlie and Lady X team up to retrieve Mischa's body from the mountain, or at least to get the code from his frozen armpit, in order to get the ill gotten gains in Switzerland.  There are of course all sorts of double-crosses and switch-backs and triple-crosses throughout Act 3 and a playful "will they/won't they/did they/should they/can they(?)" back and forth and up and down between Rihanna and Jake.  
Or how about this:
We create the first movie that doesn't have product placement; but is product placement.  The movie is actually about the product: in this case, Prada Linea Rosso/Luna Rossa sunglasses, fragrance and high-end athleisure wear, starring Jake Gyllenhaal.  Perhaps we could work in a sailing storyline; like, how did Jake end up on that sailboat by himself.  What happened out there on that dark, dark water.  Does the red moon turn Jake into some kind of sea creature, like a blood-lusting MerCrackenMan?  A horror movie?  
Here's the pitch:
The movie is called: PRADA: BLOOD MOON
Jake, you play a character named Frank Moon.  You are a superstar, award-winning, much sought after performance sailing-yacht captain who has brought home the Americas' Cup on more than one occasion.  You are between teams and are thus approached by Miuccia Prada to helm the Luna Rossa sailboat and head it's team.  Ms. Prada will be played by none other than Meryl Streep who will actually learn fluent Italian in order to provide the authenticity the role will demand; and of course be a nod to the famous franchise featuring the famous design house.  The cast will also include Anne Hathaway, playing "Andie Sachs" in a cunning cross-over in several ways.  She's playing the onboard journalist who is doing an expose on Frank Moon: so she is on the Luna Rossa when it gets lost at sea.

Now Jake must be the last sailor on the Luna Rossa, so he really can't be "The Monster."  But I'll tell you who can be!  None other than Wrestling Superstar Claudio Castagnoli a.k.a. "Cesaro."

Whoda thunk that Meryl Streep and Cesaro would be in the same movie; let alone the same scenes!  I WOULD, THAT'S WHO!  Yes, you see Cesaro speaks Italian and he could function in the script as Meryl's yacht captain and interpreter.  He gets recruited to be the co-captain of the Luna Rossa and he's the one that gets bitten by the Mercracken and then becomes one himself and proceeds to take out the crew, one by one.  So, I guess it's kind of a sea-were-wolf type deal meets "And Then There Were None."  Now, since this movie is basically a Prada commercial with a plot, and Prada has co-branding with Louis Vuitton and Pirelli tires; Cesaro's characters name will be LOUIS V. PIRELLI.  Or how about this idea: an EVIL SEA WITCH/NYMPH comes to reclaim the America's Cup, which was stolen from her grotto, lo so many years ago.  Louis is out one day practicing his sailing in the Mediterranean when he is drawn to a mysterious island.  There he encounters the SEA WITCH/VAMPIRESS who puts him under a spell, bites him and turns him into a Mervampireman.  She then commands him to return the America's Cup to her AT ALL COSTS; up to and including the destruction of the Luna Rossa crew.  He has a vision of blood pouring out of the trophy:

And here we have a moment to ask, why does this trophy look like a giant economy size vinegar cruet?

So all hell breaks loose on the high seas when Louis transforms into a Mervampireman and Jake and Anne have to KILL OR BE KILLED!  All while wearing the latest creations by Prada, Louis Vuitton and Pirelli tires.  Whaddayathink?
Or how about this idea:
This one is called: PRADA: LUCIFERIANS
So in this one, Jake plays STANLEY RYKER.  Stan is an Urban Explorer and his partner this time is going to be played by Jason Statham.  Guy Ritchie will be directing.  Jason plays BENJAMIN "BENNY" BAKER.  He's a Boston dude and a local stand-up comedian. As a matter of fact, so is Jake.  They're a comedy duo. Yes, LET'S BRING BACK THE COMEDY DUO.  And the SEXY too, while we're at it.  Why?  Because I want to see Jason Statham play someone who A) Does NOT have a British accent / B) Has a sense of humor and the ability to LAUGH and smile / and C) attempts to do something even remotely different than what they do in every single film they are ever in / and also D) Has an aversion to fire-arms, to the point where they break the fourth wall and warn kids about the dangers of guns. 
​Are Benny and Stan more than just a comedy duo?  Sure, why not!  In fact, they're married and very much in love, so when they get separated in the Hell-space that is Prada Saugus, well, we'll all be a little more invested in what happens to them, IMHO.

I'm really liking this one.  In fact, Cesaro is going to be in this too.  And Anne Hathaway.  And Meryl Streep; this time being the Italian-American proprietress of the Prince of Pizza restaurant and comedy club ("Giggles").

How about we pen the opening scene of Prada: Luciferians?  Sounds good to me!  Let's go!

FADE FROM BLACK:
EXT. BUILDING FACADE -NIGHT
The camera tilts down past the neon letters that spell out PIZZA on the side of a roadside Tower of Pisa.  We see more signage: PRINCE OF PIZZA.  We PAN over to another sign that says: GIGGLES COMEDY CLUB.
CUT TO
INT. GIGGLES COMEDY CLUB -NIGHT
A crowded CLUB with a stage and a bar.  We see from behind the figure of a WOMAN of a certain age.  We can see her apron strings tied behind her back and a hand-full of oversize menus in her hands.  We follow her as she moves past CLUB PATRONS making her way toward the bar.

NOTE:  Since this is a PRADA themed movie, I guess we should shoehorn the name in everywhere possible.  

FADE FROM BLACK:
EXT. BUILDING FACADE -NIGHT
The camera tilts down past the neon letters that spell out PRADA PIZZA on the side of a roadside Tower of Pisa.  We see more signage: PRADA PRINCE OF PIZZA.  We PAN over to another sign that says: PRADA-GIGGLES COMEDY CLUB.
CUT TO
INT. PRADA-GIGGLES COMEDY CLUB -NIGHT
A crowded CLUB with a stage and a bar.  We see from behind the figure of a WOMAN of a certain age.  We can see her apron strings tied behind her back and a hand-full of oversize menus in her hands.  We follow her as she moves past CLUB PATRONS making her way toward the bar.  
REVERSE ANGLE:
The woman raises her hand and tries to catch the attention of the BARTENDER.  Her face is handsome and earthy with little done to improve it cosmetically; as she cares not about such things.  She is MIUCCIA PRADA, early 70's (here being played by Meryl Streep).  She has a HEAVY ITALIAN ACCENT.  She puts a hand to her mouth to project her voice over the din of the crowd.
MIUCCIA
Hey, Louis!  Vieni subito qui! (Hey Louis!  Get over here quick!)
The BARTENDER, who is crouching down searching for a bottle, stands to his full height of 6 feet 5 inches.  Imposing yet kindly, with a shaved head and a ready smile, he is LOUIS V. PIRELLI (herein essayed by Claudio Castagnoli).  He hurries over to Miuccia and leans over to hear her over the LAUGHTER AND PRADA GIGGLES.
LOUIS 
Cosa? Non vedi che sono occupato? (What? Can't you see I'm busy?)
MIUCCIA
And I'm not?  Just get me a Galliano on the rocks with no lip!
He frowns and goes to get the drink.  Miuccia turns her attention to the stage where we see the figures of two MEN.  One is dark haired and the other has a head nearly as bald as Louis.  The first man is STANLEY RYKER, 40's.  He is being played by Jake Gyllenhaal.  The second man with the shiny head is BENJAMIN "BENNY" BAKER, 50'S.  He is being brought to life by Jason Statham.  Both of the men are holding microphones and there are a couple of high stools on the stage as well.  They appear to be well into a comedy routine already in progress.  Both have pronounced BOSTON ACCENTS.
STANLEY
...and we all know, Lynn right.  We've all been in Lynn--
BENNY
Are you talking about the town or my cousin?
LAUGHTER FROM THE TABLES
CLOSE on a WOMAN sitting at one of the tables, as she makes a "Oh no they didn't!" face.  This is ANDREA "ANDY" SACHS, 40'S (herein enacted by Anne Hathaway) she is busily scribbling in a PRADA REPORTER'S NOTEBOOK.  Miuccia comes to the table and places the Galliano in front of Andie.
MIUCCIA
On the house!
ANDY
Oh, you didn't have to--
MIUCCIA
Salut!
And she's gone.  Andy picks up the glass and toasts to the air.
CUT TO:
STAGE as the routine continues.  Benny is now sitting on the stool, miming that he is driving a car.  Stan is narrating in the voice of ROD SERLING from The Twilight Zone.
STAN
...meet Mr. Ernest P. Thompson, upright citizen of Saugus, Massachusetts.  Mr. Thompson had heard the limericks about Lynn: Lynn, Lynn, the city of sin...
CROWD SIMULTANEOUS
You never go out the way you went in!
STAN
But he never could have imagined that on April the 7th of 1987, he would have gone out EXACTLY the way he went in--
Benny has been miming this journey all the while from the stool, mugging his reactions in kind.
THE CROWD ERUPTS IN LAUGHTER.
CUT TO:
The bar.  Louis is doubled over in laughter.  He turns to Miuccia who is stone faced.
LOUIS 
Gets me every time!
MIUCCIA
(Muttering) Perche hai la mente di un bambino...(Because you have the mind of a baby).
CUT TO STAGE
STAN
I'm Stan and he's Benny and that's our time!
WILD APPLAUSE as the pair take a bow and then leave the stage.
CUT TO:
Andy's table.  She writes something in her notebook.  INSERT SHOT / CLOSE ON BOOK: we see what she has written:
RELATIONSHIP...???

So, Andy is writing a story about the comedy duo and at some point joins the pair when they invite her to do some urban exploring in the PRADA SAUGUS building.  When they get inside, they find the interior of the place is far too large for the actual size of the building.  A-la The Backrooms, they find things start getting really weird, really fast.  Long story short, the PRADA SAUGUS building is actually a portal to a vast underworld, ruled over by none other than LUCIFER himself, who will be played by...oh, how about...IDRIS ELBA?

Yes, it's one heckuva sexy-ass Hellscape as our trio (who are under the protection of Meryl and Cesaro who turn out to be Archangels) try to make their way--some 2300 miles--to the Marfa Texas PRADA--encountering all sorts of scary surprises and life challenging challenges as they try to, well, whatever I come up with.  Oh, I know...retrieve a pair of powerful and magic PRADA slippers that must be kept from falling into the hands of Idris and his HENCHPEOPLE:

These HELLACIOUS PRADA HENCHFOLK will include the following actors:

I mean, I think I would go see this movie, out of curiosity at the very least.
Oh, but this was supposed to be a performance review of Jake G.s performance in the PRADA sunglasses commercial. I think it's impossible to assess.  He is absolutely blank.  Does he achieve total blankness?  I would have to give a resounding YES on that; but is being a total blank an acting choice?  How about the sailboat commercial.  Let me rewatch that and get back to you...

Please continue to hold...your call is important to me...

Well, again, there is a real dearth of emotional reactions to anything.  Jake seems to be super concerned with the cloud coverage; as though he fears a storm is coming.  But since it is already raining, this concern would seem to be unwarranted.  Is he concerned that the rain will hamper the chances of winning a sailing race?  Again, there are no other boats around and no other crew; so those concerns would seem to be moot.  if we take into account the old sailor's adage of: RED SKIES AT NIGHT, SAILOR'S DELIGHT then any sort of grave concern would appear to be misplaced; as Jake should be delighted.  Even when he sees the startling Luna Rossa at the end, he seems mesmerized, yes; but one would think that seeing a moon such as that would cause one's face to be overcome with all kinds of wonderment.

But alas...it really isn't...

Is this Jake's fault; this uberunderacting? Jake does seem to be of the "less is more" school of emoting; but even with that being the case, I would say this is the fault of the director.  I mean, if y'all are going to call this a "film," then I, for one, feel it should be held up to the standards of feature film criticism.  I mean, I think anyone seeing a moon like that: crimson red and close enough to Earth to be able to clearly see ejecta blankets and crater rays; that one would more than likely be terrified as it would appear the end times would be on nigh if not immediately at hand.
On the other hand, Jake was more than likely hired to simply be masculine and handsome and as we know in this case--no acting is required on that front.  And what of the Kuleshov Effect here, again with that completely neutral, now roseate gaze?  Well, we now know what he's looking at.  What can we attribute, emotionally, to Jake's face as he looks at this astounding astronomical phenomenon?  I'm thinking maybe something like: "...now I can put a down payment on that vacation house in Trosa!"

I want to take a moment to share something that I think is kind of special.
My niece Logan had been toying with the idea of a children's book starring any of the cats that have been part of our lives.  She settled on Paco and Frannie, the two cats that I had given to my husband (then boyfriend) back when we first moved in together:

She also wanted the book to be about dealing with loss.  The loss of a loved one.  So, along with my husband (her uncle); they came up with the idea for this book.  Logan wrote the text, I did the illustrations and then Joseph put the whole thing together and we published it via Amazon.  It's called Where Has Frannie Gone?

It's currently available as a softcover on Amazon.  I will supply you with some links.  Here's a peek at the inside:

A lot of love went into this little book.
​That's all.
Just wanted to put this out there, here.  And here are the links:
www.amazon.com/Books-Christopher-F-Reidy/s?rh=n%3A283155%2Cp_27%3AChristopher%2BF.%2BReidy

Now that is a picture.  A picture worth a thousand words.  A picture that launched 3000 ships!
And it is one of the dumbest publicity pictures, I must say, that this fellah has ever seen.  But in a good way!  I mean it's pure camp.  Like literally.  Are we in a Greek training camp?!!?  Because if we are, I have to know how I can get in.  I hope it's as easy as purchasing a ticket at my local AMC (I'm a Stubbs member, thank you very much).  What do I LOVE about this picture.  Let's break it down:
1. Tom Holland's armpit.  Yum!  My Spidey-sense is tingling!
2. Robert Pattinson's armpit.  I can smell it from here.  It's puttin' me in a Twilight sleep!
3. Matt Damon's belt, which of course goes unmentioned in the fashion credits because it caught my eye.
4. Matt's bared teeth, which of course remind me of this:

5. The intentional(?) Three Stooges Reference, putting Matt in the Moe position:

6. Wondering about the acting choices on display.  What were the directions?  "...okay, now pretend you're three grade school girls having a slap fight on the playground!"
7. Or did Tom steal Robert's make-up brush and Matt is putting the kibosh on the contretemps?  
8. So many possibilities!
9. But guys...why?  This movie is already having major pre-publicity problems.  The fan-boys have their swords out, ready to render their own Trojan War.  Why would you give them more fuel with these, quite frankly, ridiculous GQ photos?
10. I guess we'll find out on July 17th.  But whatever the result, this will be a big Christmas in July present for everyone!
And speaking of Christmas in July...
Matt!  Guess what!??!  The gods heard my supplications and on a recent trip to Surprise, AZ I received a very pleasant surprise!  Although I kinda wasn't surprised because this happens to me all the time.  The heavens have supplied me with the first three Bourne movies in their proper formats, for a song!  Here is an Odyssey themed picture of my new treasure trove:

Also, Matt, since we're buds, I've decided to throw in some bonus art as a sort of "Your Gift With Purchase!" in regards to your recent acquiring of Matt's Mug With Toothbrush.  This as of now untitled piece depicts Odysseus' pooch, Argos, gazing over the Ionian sea in anticipation of his master's return:

You will also be able to find Argos on all matter of consumer products from cel-phone cases to mugs to tee shirts via Fine Art America (in case you simply can't wait until you receive the original (frame not included-please allow 6 to 8 weeks for delivery).  Here's Argos on a shower curtain!

Makes a great gift!
Oh, speaking of gifts...
I saw this the other day while I was lingering in my local movie theater lobby:

I guess as tie-ins go, this is okay.  I mean, anything to introduce todays youngsters to the classics, right, Matt?  It was right next door to the Supergirl merch, which, if you ask me, they should've been giving away. Not to pile on here; but when they had "Supergirl" show up at the end of the last Superman movie, hung-over, no less, I was like: "Ahhh, no.  That girl should not be playing Supergirl.  She should be in a Joni Mitchell biopic.  Or maybe Marianne Faithfull..."

I think they wanted some absurd amount of money ($40.00?) for the Jason Mimoa(?) whatever that is. Oh, it's the "Lobo The Spacehog Popcorn bucket."  I wonder if he knows Juan Epstein? Imagine trying to explain all this to future archaeologists? 
Furthering our Christmas theme and this is neither here nor there.  Recently my husband printed out a picture of me and it printed on the wrong side of the photo paper and it put me in mind of this:

Whadda ya think?   And I am not implying I am Christlike...

I found it amusing.  And I am sure there is a lesson in here, somewhere, about vanity.
Well, I guess that's it.
Oh, one final thing:
I AM GETTING BACK TO MY CHRISTMAS TELEPLAY: CUMMING HOME FOR CHRISTMAS, and I stand by that!  No more distractions!  I mean, if all these folks who I've formerly had admiration for would stop doing and saying (or not saying) shitty things I could concentrate.  

And Eye'll be seeing you at the movies Matty!  Fingers crossed this Odyssey finds it's way home!!!
 
​(Top photo credit: Alex Prager for GQ magazine / used without permission)

CFR   7/12/26

Remember when the entire USA went to see and fell in love with Animal House?

John Belushi, gone too soon (speaking of "Johns").  I think this was the first socio-cultural introduction for most of the public to the Greek world of frats and sororities.  And boy did it look like fun!  And also, kinda dangerous...but you know, in a fun way!  We got to see Kevin Bacon for the first time.  And Kevin Bacon "paddled" for the first time.  And sadly the last time.  I know I'm sure-fired ready to see Mr. Bacon paddled once again on the Big Screen.  Or the small screen.  Or spanked.  Or cropped.  Or quirted.  Hey, here's an idea.  Another entry in the Shades of Grey saga.  This time, Christian Grey gives up all the ladies in his life to become the protege to The International Spank Master, played by none other than Mr. Kevin Bacon.  In the inevitable "Student Becomes the Master" scene, we become privy to the Grand Spanking Ceremony where Kevin is at the bare-palmed mercy of (in a surprise recast): Jake Gyllenhaal.  

But Animal House was fun.  It was kid's play when it came to fraternity hazing.  Nobody dies in Animal House.  Once we all became familiar with frats via this movie and sororities (through perhaps The Initiation of Sarah?) we all exponentially became aware of hazing and how hazing could get out of hand.  It wasn't just the fun bum-whacking with the naughty tingles...it was shit so out of control that kids would die.  Mostly boys.  Sometimes from something expected like alcohol poisoning or alcohol related accidents or just flat out idiotic choices.  But it could also happen from something as seemingly innocent as drinking water.  These events, you could say, were few and far between; but then they seemed to become more and a lot less between.  My husband was in SAE in Tennessee (THE SOUTH) in the 80's.  This could have been some sort of perfect storm of that lifestyle.  Certainly the 80's, when "Greek Life" was at some kind of fever pitch and more or less unregulated and unsupervised.  I mean, it really took something like a kid dying for there to be any clapback; but even then it didn't amount to much.  The Greek system continued on.  And continues to continue on.  And even now, with all this awareness of hazing and new laws and punishments and so on and so forth; tragedies still happen.  Which really makes me wonder how in 1990 an event could have happened in a frat, that was so severe, it led to prison sentences and the UTAustin chapter of Sigma Nu actually closing down.  Which makes me think that what happened that night in November of 1990 was maybe much worse than what has been disclosed (which doesn't seem like a lot; and which also seems shrouded in secrecy to this day).
I'm not going to get into, much, what is known of the gory details, Jon.  In a nutshell, in November of 1990 you would have been a sophomore at The University of Texas at Austin.  You were in the Sigma Nu fraternity.  I guess if they had a house, you would've lived in it.  So, you're a brother and I'm sure it was Hell Week that November or whatever they called it; when "pledges" are put through their paces before they can "get in."  Different frats have different traditions and rituals.  One of the common ones is "the pledge paddle."  My husband still has his.  He had to get all the signatures of the older brothers.  They didn't make it easy.  They put the guys through all kinds of shit to get the signatures.  Paddle signatures are pretty innocuous; but the paddle itself is not.  It's a hefty plank of wood with a handle. 

And yes, you could quite easily kill someone with it.
And what did you do with your Sigma Nu paddle?  Well ALLEGEDLY you hit a pledge with it so hard he nearly lost a kidney.  
Yes, we have to say ALLEGEDLY about all of this because as I mentioned, the hard facts of all of it seem to be rather soft.  This is what I know:
A pledge named Mark Allen Sanders accused you, Jon Hamm and several other Sigma Nu brothers of a hazing so severe his spine was fractured, his kidney injured and his pants were set on fire and he had to "blow out" the flames with his breath.  ALLEGEDLY, much of this; particularly at your hands, Jon Hamm, (allegedly).  In particular the paddle incident and some creative use of a hammer that seemed to go above and beyond the usual threshold of cruel and unusual frat hijinks.  It seems that you and the other brothers were demanding Mark Sanders to recount your various and sundry nick-names which is certainly a feasible fraternity shenanigan.  When he couldn't remember yours in particular, Jon; you ALLEGEDLY claimed one of your nicknames was "M.C. Hammer" (I think I can guess...) and when he couldn't remember it; you ALLEGEDLY grew extremely angry and then produced a hammer from your sleeve, hooked the claw behind his scrotum (he was wearing jeans, thankfully) and led him around the room by it. Did you premed--err--pre-plan this or did the hammer just happen to be in the room--allegedly?
​This is really interesting to me.  I really just learned about all of this.  And then the other day, this commercial aired:

I found this super strange.  Did some ad agency also find about the events in November of 1990 and come up with this?  I truly have to wonder.
Okay, I get it.  Young boys whose skulls haven't fused yet.  Alcohol bringing about heretofore unknown personality changes.  Peer pressure.  Pressure cooker atmosphere.  Young men willing to do ANYTHING to belong.  Things get out of hand.  Yes, I get it.  Shit happens; especially in this truly toxic all-male, cult-like atmosphere.  But here's what I really don't get, Jon.  Your response to this when you were finally asked about it in a public forum (that being an Esquire magazine interview) was the following (and this is directly from that article*):

A "bummer."
A bummer?
"...a bummer of a thing that happened."
Exactly who was it a bummer for?
I mean, it seems like it was a bummer for you Jon.  Certainly not Mark Allen, who it seems is lucky to have gotten out of that situation with his life.  And not merely a bummer for your frat bros, who did jail-time (this is, I believe, an undisputed fact).

This is a bummer, Jon:

Just ask Kevin Bacon.
I guess those quotes from Esquire are your only and official response to this subject.  And it's quite the dismissal.  Among the problems I have with it is...well...all of it, really.  First, you say it was a "big situation." But it wasn't.  It was a very small situation.  One house...I'm guessing maybe around twenty to thirty guys? A situation in a frat house couldn't be smaller or more intimate. You say it was all "sensationalized."  Jon, it shut down a frat house.  People went to jail.  It seems to me that it was minimalized, if anything.  You are so quick to say that you were acquitted and not convicted.  Some might see this as worming out of it with barely a slap on the wrist.  How quick you were, Jon, to absolve yourself of any guilt or responsibility.  And that instant refusal to take any responsibility; or accountability or any kind of blame makes me fear something.  It makes me fear that you might be a narcissist Jon.  Because in my experience with narcissists (and I've had more than my fair share) the common thread amongst all of them was the absolute refusal to ever accept blame for something.  To admit responsibility.  To acknowledge fault. I would post a NARCISSIST CHECKLIST for you but it would be pointless.  Narcissists seem to be incurable and even if they realize they have a problem, they don't care.  It's actually quite sad.  And I hope it's not true for you.  And if it isn't, then you have a choice to own up to these past actions, accept responsibility and enact some kind of atonement or reparations.  Perhaps a PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT about the dangers of HAZING.  Do you know how much good that could do, coming from you?  It could actually save lives.
Here's one of the accompanying fashion photos from the Esquire article:

Because, of course it's by Tom Ford.  A leather biker jacket by Tom Ford.  Hmmmm...gotta say...seems kinda gay.  Here is the title of that article:*

So this article is from 8 years ago; but have you successfully broken free from Don Draper, Jon?  Or is that character now so associated with you that there's no way you can?  Or was Don Draper actually Jon Hamm to begin with and it was simply some kind of casting fait accompli?  I've noticed in a lot of your recent appearances you've been wearing clothing that is very evocative of the early 1960's; e.g. The Ritz Island commercial.  You seem to be sliding back into the Draper persona.  I was thinking about your recent commercials for Minute Made "Zero Sugar."  Let's look at them again:

In the first spot, you are again playing yourself.  Now is the other guy supposed to be your actual agent or manager or endorsement deal broker?  Again, since you are "you" here, I have to assume that this is your agent.  This guy is so douchey he makes Mark Walberg seem sincere.  Not only is he an Uber-douche, he's so empty and callous he makes Don Draper seem huggable.  He's proposing that you sign on to advertise "Minute Maid Zero Sugar"...which is...what?  Low calorie lemonade.  This commercial is so utterly empty it can't even be bothered to inform the consumer what the beverage tastes like.  What flavor it even is.  The script is a bunch of blank pages.  You are asking how you can create a character from nothingness when the character is actually you.  Jon Hamm.  The commercial is implying that you, Jon Hamm, are nothingness.  That you are as empty as Don Draper was.  That you will sign on to be an utter blank.  And then there's that chilling empty laugh.  That hollow phony laugh that says: none of this fucking matters.  This is just about being in front of a camera and making money.  It doesn't even matter what this shit tastes like.  I don't know about you, but I find this existentially terrifying.  It is saying you are such a non-entity, Jon, that it doesn't even matter if you even do anything.  And then, in the second spot, it's even worse, if that's possible.  And it is possible, because I just found a long form of this ad and this idea of BEING AND NOTHINGNESS is pushed even further to the point where they show you (dressed much like Don Draper) on an empty sound-stage because even though they hired you, they didn't actually need your presence for the spot.  Jon, did you not wonder what the point of this was?  Did the ad makers recognize something in you that you can't seem to realize?  I mean it's insulting.  You're being presented as an existential void.  A black hole of non-entityness.  You've been ghosted by the ghost of a fictional ghost.
Oh, so it's lemonade.  Perhaps there is a glimmer of hope in all of this Jon.  Lemons are loaded with not just vitamin C, but all kinds of symbolism.  

Perhaps we can find some purification in here Jon.  I have always loved lemons, since childhood.  The taste, the smell, the way they look.  Their color.  I love that song, "The Lemon Tree." Let's take a listen, shall we?

Wasn't that lovely, Jon?  Bittersweet, much like lemonade...and I suppose, Minute Maid Zero Sugar.
And I promised I was going to say some nice things about you Jon...so here we go.
During the height of Mad Men Mania, Banana Republic did a tie-in with the show:

They even had a contest where you could win a Mad Men wardrobe worth like, maybe 5 grand, if I recall correctly.  All you had to do was submit photos of yourself in your best Mad Men inspired look.  The competition was fierce!  You could actually see the competition because the photos submitted were all posted online.  This was my official entry:

As a matter of fact, I was so inspired by this idea that I took a lot of photographs.  A lot.  Dozens...perhaps upwards of one hundred.  Basically of me posing as you Jon Hamm, as Don Draper.  And they were some of the best self portraits I have ever done.  I must say I never looked better!  YOU INSPIRED ME JON HAMM.  Sadly, I somehow managed to delete nearly every single one of these photos from what I call the MAD MEN SESH.  Just a few survive.  I hope to this day they are stuck somewhere in the drive of an old laptop; but I don't think they are.  And I think this story has a very valuable lesson in it about VANITY. 
But the contest itself was something of a sham.  These incredibly creative photos, by not just me but a lot of fans of the show, were not assessed creatively.  The winner was not picked due to artistic merit.  No.  It became clear that some people had their photos submitting over and over again by some kind of algorithm.  The man who won the contest wasn't even done up in Mad Men style.  It was a joke, really.
Also, Jon, one of my most favorite dramatic scenes from any filmed media was from Mad Men and you were in the scene.  It was the time you took your young wife to Howard Johnson's, so sure she would love the orange sherbet.  Let's take a look:
I can't find the exact moment in the scene; but we can see some of it here...

Your reaction to her dismissal of something you just assumed she would love because you love it, is so real.  It's almost like you're not acting.  As a matter of fact, I am going to find that exact moment and post it in an addendum.  That's how much faith I still have in you Jon.  I will share something back that you shared with me.  From one actor to another.
So there we are.  It seems we are at some kind of crossroads.  Well, at least I am.  Did you ever do anything with your English degree Jon?  Do you write?  Perhaps you could write an article about that night in November of 1990.  An apologia of sorts.  An examination of something you, at least, never seem to have examined.  I bet People magazine would publish it.  They love that stuff.  I can see the copy on the cover now: Jon Hamm Wants to Tell You Something; or something along those lines.  I think you kind of owe it to everyone who has supported you in your career.  And maybe you have apologized to Mark Allen Sanders; but I don't think it would hurt to put it in writing for all of us to see.

EPILOGUE:
MARK "L." WALBERG, self-proclaimed bringer together of loving couples, went on to host another game show called The Moment of Truth:

Considered one of the worst TV gameshows ever to have been produced and aired; this lie-detector based "entertainment" famously destroyed at least one family.  Mr. Walberg continues to host Antiques Roadshow.

MEGYN KELLY
Miss Kelly continues to flip-flop her politics according to what's most advantageous for herself; put her nose where it doesn't belong in the lives of celebrity women she seems to be jealous of and run her big fat mouth ad-nauseum while sporting a hairdo she's way too old for.  I call it "The Playboy Mansion '97." As in: "Hey Megyn...Crystal Hefner called from 1997...she wants her hair back." And  some call it sad.  (CAT HISS SFX).

PEGGY OLSON:
After being acquitted in the death of Don Draper, Peggy left her advertising life behind and became a nun.

MARY AND MARC:
Nobody knows.  They won two hundred dollars for their date, which is worth about twice that today, in 2026. Were foot massages traded?  Were pedicures purchased?  Where did they go for their date?  Why didn't that cheap-ass show pay for their date and let them keep the extra cash?  Like, how about dinner at L'Orangerie?  Or Lawry's Prime Rib, home of the world famous Spinning Salad?  That would have been a fun date!

And what kind of show has a fucking drawing for the grand prize?  No wonder it went off the air.  Did Mary and Marc go to Jamaica?  Did they fall in love?  Did they get married?  The world may never know...hello young lovers, Mary and Marc, wherever you are!
​
ADDENDUM FORTHCOMING

And now, a final word from our sponsor, FAB detergent with Lemon Freshened Borax, which somehow seems appropriate...

How about a reboot of Mad Men?  How would I go about writing it you ask?  Well Jon, at this point, I'm thinking the only thing you would want to ask me is to not so kindly shut up.  But I press on and I will have some nice things to say about you too.  We'll get to that.  
But let's revisit Mad Men first, shall we?   We're gonna have to do a little math.  So, Mad Men was set from 1960 to 1970, more or less.  If the show went off 11 years ago and we picked it up now, it would be 1981.  So this reboot picks up in that year (if we were to start filming this now, say).  Which is perfect, if you ask me!  Why, that was the year Dynasty started, a TV show that arguably shaped and then defined a decade.  Here is the thing though...
WE ARE GOING TO KILL DON DRAPER.
Or more precisely, Peggy Olson is.  First of all, let me just ask: why the fuck did Betty have to die?  She put up with that jerk of a husband for ten years and then she's rewarded with a nice bouquet of lung cancer?  Fuck that.  But we can't bring her back.  But we can make Don go away.  And we can have Peggy do it.  And Don must perish by falling off of a New York City skyscraper.  It's the only way.  How about the Seagram's building?

Jon if you and Matthew Weiner and perhaps Peggy Olson don't mind, I'm going to take the liberty of writing the opening scene of this Mad Men redux.  I mean, I know Mr. Weiner "created" the show...but really, isn't it just sort of Bewitched all over again, except as a one hour drama with the supernatural element removed?  Just sayin'...
​Here we go.  Let's set the mood with a little music:

This will not be in proper format, but you'll get the gist.

MADDER MEN

INT. FOUR SEASON'S RESTAURANT -DAY
The CAMERA hovers over one of the famous trees in the even more famous eatery.  A SUBTITLE comes up: NEW YORK CITY - AUTUMN 1981.  The CAMERA moves through the foliage of the tree, the vivid burgundy of a Japanese maple.  We move towards a table.  One of the best in the place, near The Pool which burbles pleasantly.  Seated at the table are DON DRAPER, 50's and PEGGY OLSON, 40's, side by side. It's ten years on since we last saw them; Don is looking fit in an Armani suit.  Peggy, however still hasn't quite nailed her fashion sense.  And has she put on a little weight? Across from them is EDGAR BRONFMAN SR., the CEO of Seagram's.  He relights a cigar as Peggy reaches for an appetizer, Curried Mussels.
EDGAR
Oh, you don't mind, do you?
DON
Of course not E.B.
PEGGY
I actually love the smell.
She piles some mussels on her little plate.  Don gives her an ever so sideways glance as he picks up his soup spoon and then dips it in his bowl of Duck Consomme.

PEGGY
(As she holds up a mussel in the tongs) Don?
DON
I have a shellfish allergy.
PEGGY
Since when?
DON
Childhood, Peggy.
PEGGY
News to me.  Mr. Bronfman, mussel?
EDGAR
Oy.  Honey I can't eat that.
PEGGY
Huh.  Maybe I should've ordered something else.  (GIGGLES as she fills her plate with more)  All the more for me!
EDGAR
You have all you want sweetie.  You deserve it.  I mean you're the genius who brought in that black fellah to the 7-UP campaign.  That bastard sold more 7 and 7 than, well, you Don!
PEGGY
His name is Geoffrey Holder.
EDGAR
Right.  Say, is he queer?

They are interrupted by the WAITER who leans in with a plate.
WAITER
Here you are Mr. Bronfman, your special Hudson Valley Foi Gras...
EDGAR
Thank you Jimmy.  Say, do you know if Geoffrey Holder is queer?
WAITER
I wouldn't know Sir; but he does like fruit...
BRONFMAN LAUGHS 
JIMMY
Are you ready to order?
EDGAR
Not quite Jimmy.  Give us a few minutes.
JIMMY nods and disappears.
EDGAR
Funny guy that Jimmy.  Worked here forever.
He places his smoldering cigar in the ashtray and starts spreading his pate on a toast point.
DON
Actually, one of my guys found Holder right before we brought Peggy in to consult.
Now Peggy shoots Don a side-eye.
EDGAR
Well, it's neither here nor there.  7 Up went through the roof and took my Seven with it.  Speaking of roofs, I can't wait to take you two upstairs and tell you what I want!
PEGGY
One thing...(WHISPERS)...one goddamn thing...
EDGAR
What's that honey?  I didn't get that.  This babbling brook here is drowning you out.
PEGGY
Oh.  I was just going to say that the one thing I want is to make it the very best one thing you could want!
EDGAR
(Slightly confused) Right...right!
DON glances up.
CUT TO:
DON'S P.O.V.
We watch through Don's eyes as a single maple leaf spirals down from the top of the tree they are near.  As though in slow-motion the leaf seems to hover over the table until it finally lands--perfectly--in the middle of Don's soup, as though placed there.

EDGAR
Hey, I bet that's good luck!
DON
Well, it is duck soup...
EDGAR
I love that movie!  Well dig in kids.  I think I'll have the--
But Don isn't hearing him.  He's looking at the maple leaf and then at Peggy, who is forcefully digging her fork into the mussel shell.  THE SOUND OF THE BURBLING WATER overtakes the BACKGROUND NOISE.
CUT TO:
EXT. SEAGRAM'S BUILDING ROOFTOP -DAY
The CAMERA is CLOSE on a metal door which swings open.  We see the sunglassed face of the ASSISTANT to Mr. Bronfman.  He looks more like a Secret Service agent than a secretary.  He steps back and ushers Bronfman, Peggy and Don along with several silent ASSISTANTS, part of Bronfman's entourage.  One of them is carrying an ungainly portable telephone in a duffle bag.  The underlings hang back as Edgar leads Peggy and Don along a walkway with very low railings and then a straight drop, straight down.  38 stories down.

BRONFMAN
(As though he's already told them most of his plans)...and this is where it's going to be.  Manhattan's premiere night-spot!  People will be selling body parts just to get on the wait-list!
DON
What are you going to call it?
EDGAR
I was thinking "Club Seagram's" but of course, you can do better.  That's why I hired you.  I want you to design it and I want young Miss Olson here to sell it.
DON
I think it will sell itself.  But Edgar, I have to ask...where exactly is it going to go?
EDGAR
Right here--!  
He points to the middle of the roof which is taken up mostly by recessed mechanical infrastructure.  Don leans over the railing.
DON
You can't cover up your air conditioning E.B.
EDGAR
Then all around the sides!
DON
That will compromise the roofline.  The whole point of this building is the clean lines.
EDGAR
Oh shit.  You won't see that from the street!
DON
It's Mies van der Rohe--
EDGAR
I don't want to hear about that bastard!
PEGGY
Yeah Don, screw him.  We'll build another story if we have to.  Above the air conditioning, right Mr. Bronfman?
EDGAR
Right!  Now you're talking my language.  Call me "Ed" honey.
The assistant with the phone approaches.
EDGAR
What?  Tell them to call back.
ASSISTANT
It's your son, Sir.
EDGAR
Which one?
ASSISTANT
Ed Jr.
EDGAR
Oh, I've been waiting for this call.  I've gotta go.  Peggy, Don...take your time and look around.  Up!  Not down.
He takes the phone as he and his group start for the access door.  He points to the handset as he takes it.
EDGAR
My son.  He wants to be in Show Business.  But I'm gonna beat him to the punch!  Yeah--hello--what...?
The Seagram's people exeunt. Peggy and Don find themselves alone.  Don turns from the interior railing and glares at Peggy.
DON
How many 7 and 7s did you have before I got there?
PEGGY
(LAUGHS) You're not going to lecture me on that are you?
DON
What the hell is wrong with you?
PEGGY
I've had a lousy week.
DON
I've had a lousy life.  Join the club. (He retrieves his cigarettes and offers one to Peggy.  She shakes her head "no."  He starts patting himself down for matches)  You weren't serious about building another story, were you?
PEGGY
Why not?
DON
Less is more, Peggy.  Do you have a light?
Peggy nods and opens her purse.  She retrieves a dainty pearl handled .22 from the bag.  She points it at Don.
DON
(Leaning in for a light)  Where did you get this?  That joke shop on 57th?
PEGGY
Oh, this is no joke.  It's not a lighter either...I think some call it a heater though...
Don gazes up at her, realizing it is indeed a real gun.

DON
You know everybody always told me you were crazy; but still I--
PEGGY
Oh, I'm crazy all right.  Crazy to have ever trusted you.  To ever have believed there was some good in you.  You see, I thought that because you never tried to lay me you were my big brother.  But then you screwed me anyways...
DON
That was simply business Peggy and you know it.
PEGGY
No.  I don't.  There was something perversely personal about it.
DON
No.  I tried.  I really tried--
PEGGY
No you didn't.  Don, did you ever read that story, The Five-Forty-Eight?
DON
Cheever?
PEGGY
Yes.
DON
No.
PEGGY 
(LAUGHS)  Oh Don, that's so you!  To know who wrote it but to never have read it!
DON
(Moving closer to her)  What's it about?
PEGGY
Back off and I'll tell you--
He moves towards the center of the roof.  Peggy waves the gun in the other direction.
PEGGY
That way.
DON
No.
PEGGY
Yes.
He is frozen.  Peggy shoots at his foot.  The bullet kicks up some dust about two inches from the cap of his $500 dollar shoe.  He LAUGHS.
PEGGY
What's so funny?
DON
I just thought about Betty for some reason.
PEGGY
I would say you can see her in a few minutes; but then again, you're going down, not up.  Come on Don.  MOVE.
Don begins to slowly walk towards the railing that is only about two feet from the edge of the rooftop.
DON
So, tell me about this story.  What's it about?
PEGGY
It's about a mad woman whose boss fires her and then she pulls a gun on him, for reasons of her own.
DON
Maybe I have read it...
Don is at the railing.  He turns and looks at Peggy.  He is a blank.
PEGGY
You see he's fucked her over, literally and she wants to make him feel the way she feels, so she makes him lie on the ground and rub his face in the dirt...
DON
Then what happens?
PEGGY
You'll have to read it, I guess.  Step over the railing Don.
Don, strangely calm; nearly resigned, steps over the railing.  He is now facing the Manhattan skyline, his hands behind him clutching the rail.  He looks down and we see what he sees.  A straight drop to the plaza below.

DON
(Quietly) It's too symmetrical...
PEGGY
What?
DON
(LAUGHS) Should I aim for one of the fountains?
PEGGY
Sure.  It couldn't hurt.  Are you ready to fly the friendly skies Don?  It's the real thing.
DON
I would say you'll never get away with this...but I'd be wrong.  You'll have a lot of explaining to do though...
PEGGY
Oh, you know me Don Draper.  I can sell it.
DON
You sure can.
PEGGY
I learned from the best.
Don nods.
PEGGY
Let go Don.
He nods again.  We cut to a CLOSE SHOT of Don's white knuckled hand.  After a moment he releases his grip.
CUT TO:...?

See, I just can't do it. 
Perhaps this could be like a mini-series.  We could call it MAD WOMEN and it's a kind of "Who Shot J.R.?" type thing.  So, before the above events, we go back a few years and follow all the women Don has abused and set up several of them as the potential suspects.  And then it turns out it's Peggy and we close on the above scene.  Oh!  We open on the plaza where Don has met his maker and then go back; kinda like Sunset Blvd.  I love this!  Have your people call my people!
Maybe I can't kill Don Draper; but I think Jon Hamm needs to.  And I'll get into that.  But first, I have a few more things to say.  I mean, we've come this far, right?  Let's press on.  Pressed Hamm.  I often think I should've gone into advertising.  I think I would've been good at it.  Here's something I want to talk about.  I want to talk about your penis, Jon.  I mean, I think it's fair.  It caused quite the sensation a while ago.  It even got a nick-name: Hamm-A-Conda.  How did this happen?  Well, I believe there was sort of kerfuffle on the set of Mad Men about how your package was reading on camera.  That you were asked to wear underwear.  To stop going commando.  Was this just Hollywood gossip?  But then, there were all sorts of pictures of you going about your day in public; which seemed a bit like Jon Jr. was going about his day and you were just along for the ride.

Jon...
There is no question that this is one spectacular package.  But here's the thing...
You can't not have known that this was going on in your lap.  And you can't not have known that there would be photographers on the prowl.  And this brings us back to your humility.  Because this is, I have to say, a not-so-humble brag.  This is a Pop-a-razzi Stroll.
So, this made folks lose their minds; particularly (apparently) gay men.  And even more so: SIZE QUEENS.  And again, I have to say...this too seems kinda gay.  Are you on your way to the local bodega or the Gauntlet in Silverlake?  But then...you actually complained about the attention Jon Jr. was receiving.  I mean, you put him out there Jon.
And while we're getting specific, I wanted to look at that commercial for Carvana again, because there are things about it that still bug me.  I mean, you are "yourself" here.  It's "your" car, "your" front lawn, "your" neighbor, "your" smart phone, "your" forsythia, right?  I am then to assume this is an accurate portrayal of "your" life then.
Frinstance...
The car you are selling appears to be a Jeep SUV.  Come on.  We all know you were THE VOICE of Mercedes Benz for 15 years.  I don't know what kind of perks you had; but I'm guessing the latest models from the fine folks at MB were always parked in your driveway.  So, I don't think you would've had a Jeep on hand to sell.  I mean, I could be wrong but if I could opt for the GLS 580, gratis...I would, wouldn't you?
Also...
So "Gar-Bear" couldn't be just a nerd.  He had to have lousy hair too?  Like not just balding; but a balding mess that appears uncombed, if not flea-bitten?

But I'm not going to put the blame for  Gar-Bear's hair on you, Jon, since it seems "Gar-Bear" has a new gig as a game show host and has apparently decided to commit to that hair-do.

But perhaps you could do him a "solid" by sending him to your hair people Jon.  I mean, you said you would go to his dog's birthday party and then you didn't; so technically you owe at least his dog a gift.  Maybe some flea powder too?
And now, I feel, we have to look at yet another commercial where you are playing "yourself."  Oh yes...we must check in and see what's happening on "Ritz Island."  What you say?  Do we have to?  Yes, we do!

Okay...
Hanging out in a tree-house with Bowen Yang voyeuring through binoculars and bitching about not being invited to a party because you're "salty"?  I'm just gonna have to say it again.  Kinda gay.  
I'm not even gonna ask if Ritz Island is anywhere near Little Saint James Island; and that's because we need to take this into another blog.  So please see: Jon V. Don Part 4: Kill Your Drapers.

CFR   7/4/2026