Mad Men

Cultural influences abound in this artful, cinematic show, centered on an early 1960s New York advertising agency. Matthew Weiner's latest creation universally resonates, from Oprah's '60s-inspired show to fashion editors and designers going, well, mad for the "Mad Men look." Known not just for its impeccable production and costume design or the seductively satisfying period-appropriate banter tossed back and forth by its players, the show also proves to be a deft character study. Its mostly twenty- and thirtysomething characters teeter precariously between their public and private selves, as they navigate the Wild West of early Madison Avenue. And wild it is--they're pioneers in a more modern, post-war America, replete with working girls, unchartered business territories, and polite social customs we'd barely recognize today. Against this backdrop, each character's carefully coiffed image is peeled back and slowly exposed, and we begin to question whether duplicitous behaviors, large and small, have any consequences whatsoever. We know, of course, that they always do, which is why we keep watching. Because every tug of every narrative thread unravels these enigmatic characters, tearing at the impeccable looks they've try so hard, and so miserably, to keep unblemished.