With classic leading-man looks and an easy, approachable charm, they’re as admired by men as they are desired by women. It’s early February, and Hamm is in the middle of shooting the last episode of the first half of ’s final “season.” As is the case with every other valuable but expiring product in Hollywood these days, those episodes will be parceled out over two years (instead of one) to maximize fan interest and, especially, profits. Which is great, because that’s another way to tell a story. And the two shows—both featuring loathsome but somehow still likable protagonists—will always be associated with this golden era of dramatic television.
Though Hamm would prefer that AMC air all the remaining episodes in succession—that’s what, “as a fan,” he’d want—he admits that his opinion on the matter is meaningless. I suggest to Hamm that without the success of Don Draper, we wouldn’t have had Walter White.
At age 43, Hamm is at the tail end of a crazy seven-year streak, during which he went from handsome-but-unknown actor to dashing Hollywood superstar over the course of a single TV series. He’s a personable guy who’s immediately easy to talk to, and he seems relaxed, comfortable with his place in the weird world he inhabits.
In the process, Hamm did something very special, by forging a stardom that’s actually enviable and not at all annoying, joining the likes of George Clooney and Harrison Ford in the tiny club of A-list actors who achieved their recognition not as teen heartthrobs or promising youngsters, but as early-middle-aged men. ’” As a dark, edgy drama, , premiering on the same network a year later. For the first time in his recent professional life, he’s in the position of having time to consider his uncertain future, and I’m wondering the same thing everyone else is: Once Don Draper crushes out his last Lucky Strike, what’s Jon Hamm going to do?
A film of genuine force, Lady Macbeth strikes you in the gut with a clenched fist, simultaneously se...