Oh, THE GOOD WIFE. I've loved you for so long. And now all signs are pointing to the end! After seven seasons, it might be time - but it's going to be hard saying goodbye to your clever, contradictory, resonant stories, and to the people who play them out so beautifully, like they did tonight.
The fact that things get dirty
The resurrection of the voice-mail, and the consequent fall-out (fall down?) for Alicia has reminded me of why I've been an advocate of this show since I watched the pilot three times over on that long haul flight way back when. This is a show that looked at a woman in a certain, unthinkable situation and asked - what is she feeling? Not what is she doing, or what will she do next, but what is she feeling? Then instead of telling us what she was feeling, THE GOOD WIFE showed us. The writers have shown us the weeks and months and years of Alicia Florrick feeling her way through her new life since that moment she slapped Peter, from the parts she wanted, to the parts she didn't, and all the parts in between.
The whole time, she's been written and portrayed as a real person, reacting to things the way real people do.
The voicemail? It's impact all these years later? That's the funny thing about grief, about how real people grieve. It's not a linear experience, not something with an expiry date. Grief, bone-deep grief, can resurface years after you thought you were done, especially when triggered by some other dramatic change in your life.
That's how it works in real life. It's just that TV doesn't usually take the time to show it this way ...
What did you do to her?
Alicia was in love. He died. Tonight she finds out exactly what Will tried to tell her all those years ago. It's a kind of emotional torture to finally know the truth, but she wants to hear it (I didn't need to hear it again, though. Like Eli, I can quote that damn message start to end). And let's not forget something here, especially for those questioning the impact of the voicemail after all this time: Alicia's very last contact with Will was via an aborted voice message. She's been wondering for months what her estranged lover would have said next, if he'd had the chance. In no small way that very first missed connection has to feel tied to the last.
When Alicia doesn't want to deal with how the truth inevitably makes her feel, Lucca Quinn, who has had enough of watching Alicia hate the world, forces her new legal partner to tell her the truth, too.
The scene that follows is simply stunning. I don't have clever way of writing about it - I'm not even sure I took it all in. I held my breath and let my dinner go cold, and I cried when Alicia cried - and even more when Cush Jumbo's Lucca cried with her and asked to be her friend.
Oh how I have missed friendship on this show.
I'll go back to the laundry scene. In the next few days, and later, when I watch a concluded THE GOOD WIFE in its entirety. But I don't think I'm calling it too early to put it in my top ten best scenes of the series, ever.
[Update/reflection a few days later: I love that Alicia says she isn't even sure if she still likes her children. Not because I believe it to be true, but because when do women ever get to say things like that? When do they ever get to admit that sometimes it feels like the things that are supposed to make up for everything else are not enough? In this moment I see a woman grieving much more than a lost lover. I see a woman grieving the life she lost all the way back at that slap, and how right now all her familiar comforts have failed her. I love how real this moment is, no matter how discomforting to consider.]
Alicia, you are here because I need you here.
Cathartic laundry moments aside, here's what else happens in "Judged": Alicia tries to help an early bond court client - by suing Judge Schakowsky, who has kept the defendant in jail months after the young man first appeared in his court. There is a civil case to be fought and lots of money to be won, but Alicia's forgotten all her early lessons. Judges stick together, and certain lawyers stick to judges, including her seemingly innocuous bond court colleague Bernie, who not only succeeds in stealing Alicia's client, but proceeds to sue her for the money instead.
Lucca calls in Cary and Jason Crouse (Lucca for all the wins tonight!), but it looks like Alicia's going to be found guilty, and her new firm doesn't have nearly enough money to cover the $1.5 million she's being sued for. Is this the end of Florrick and Quinn? We end with Cary offering Alicia (and Lucca, right?) a place back home at the multi-named firm where she first started this journey back in season one. She laughs, because what else is a woman to do when things are turned upside down yet again?
You know what else Alicia does? She forgives Eli, via yet another Alan Cumming moment of brilliance, and she kisses the very fine Jason. She kisses him a few times in fact. The #Jalicia pairing comes off as more tender than hot right now. But that might be because we've all been through a lot of feeling tonight. Hopefully the time for pure pleasure will come.
It's time for good timing to take its turn, don't you think.
How did you feel about tonight's episode? In a night of incredible performances, who won the hour for you? And sidebar: how cool was it to see Martha back, even in a filler plot (sorry Diane)?
Images: CBS
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