#TGWThoughts

[florrickandassociates]

TGF Thoughts: 1x01-- Inauguration

For those of you familiar with my posts, you know what this is. For those of you new to this fandom, I write obnoxiously long recaps of every episode (and you can find them all here). I started doing this with 6x01 of The Good Wife and I’m continuing the tradition for The Good Fight. They’re obnoxiously long because I try to be detailed, but they’re in bullet points so it should be easy to skip around and find comments on a particular scene. 

As always, I’m happy to elaborate/explain/discuss any of the ideas in here. I’m hoping to get a 1x02 recap up before 1x03 goes live, but we’ll see. 

Often, it’s easy to tell what a show wants to be from the way it introduces itself to the audience. First impressions aren’t all that matter—but they’re important. They’re especially important on the spinoff of a show that had an opening scene so iconic the writers recreated it seven years later, expecting viewers to get the reference. TGW’s opening scene set the tone for the whole series, so the bar was high for TGF, a show that exists essentially because CBS wants more money. How do you craft an opening scene that sets the tone for a show where the premise is PLEASE GIVE US YOUR MONEY?

The answer, it turns out, is to begin the series with a scene that acts as an argument in favor of its own existence. As Diane watches last month’s inauguration, we’re given a reason to care about this show about a diverse group of women fighting back. Why should we tune in to this show? Because we’re ready for a fight, too.

So, the opening moments of TGF—Diane, alone, watching that man’s inauguration—are irrelevant to most of what follows. You could argue (as I think the Kings have tried to, bizarrely) that Diane decides to retire to run away from the shitshow, but, come on. You and I both know that Diane decided to retire because the Kings needed a way to make her extremely vulnerable to the scandal they created. We know she would’ve retired if Hillary had won (that “shattered every glass ceiling” line they say they had to replace was terrible, btw), and we know she would’ve retired if this spinoff had aired a year earlier. As far as I’m concerned, the opening scene stands alone, and that’s fine.

In fact, since it sets the tone for the whole show (which will, undoubtedly, become more political as we get into the episodes written/filmed post-election), I’d argue it works (much, much) better as an opening scene than the Maia intro (here’s a new woman you’ve never seen before! She is a lawyer!) or the Diane intro (here is a house in France that will be important to this episode and only this episode!).

As much as I hate to admit it—because admitting it means that we’re really living in a world where that man is POTUS, the most recent presidential election gave TGF the reason it needed to exist. The moment I saw the tagline “GET NASTY”, it clicked into place. Suddenly I was excited about TGF as more than a weekly check-in with some characters I used to love. Suddenly I liked the name The Good Fight much more than The Greater Good (the show’s working title). Nothing had changed about the show itself—the “fight” in the title was still about recovering from a fictional scandal; the show was still something that came about because CBS wanted to profit more off of TGW—but it felt different. It felt necessary. And, even better: the show knew it.

The Kings claim they didn’t expect Trump to win, but they do have a knack for being eerily good at predicting what the political mood will be like in a few months. They seem to be right on the money with The Good Fight, even if they had to rethink the opening. The name and premise of the show, both decided in advance of the election, are about struggling.

(I know the Kings think there’s something darkly funny about watching Diane watch the inauguration or whatever but come on. They’re marketing to an audience that would not only understand that “Get Nasty” is a reference to “Nasty Woman” but be driven to watch by that reference.)

Before I move on: Hi, Diane… I’m sorry, but I have a message from the future—one fucking month in the future—this is really happening and it is a horrific shitshow.

Diane turns off the TV, drops the remote, and walks out of the frame as Erin McKewon’s “You Were Right About Everything” begins to play. She has the right idea.

A few seconds in and TGF is already spot-on with its music choices. Yay! (I don’t know if I like the songs used in The Good Universe because I associate them with the shows or because the people choosing them and I have similar tastes in music, but I’ll take it either way.)  

Diane’s dark living room gives way to an image of an unfamiliar face against a black background. Moments later, the lights come on, and we see Maia Rindell, nervously waiting to take the bar exam. It’s hard to make much of her from this glimpse—who wouldn’t be nervous waiting to take the bar exam? Why would a character be on this show and not be a lawyer? One thing, though, is clear: she’s just starting out her career.

Cut to the French countryside, where Diane is touring a beautiful estate. She takes in the view and smiles: she’s going to love it here.

Then we’re back with Maia, sometime later. She’s waiting impatiently for her bar exam results. When she learns that she’s passed, she screams, alarming her sleeping girlfriend, Amy.

Maia begins to jump up and down on the bed and then jumps on top of Amy. It’s super adorable.  

(Before I continue: I’m happy that a) Maia is queer, b) this is not remarked upon or treated as a huge reveal, and c) she’s in a committed long-term relationship. Seeing as TGW had a total of zero lead characters in relationships that resemble the ones most people actually have, this is a welcome change.)

Also: Maia and Amy’s apartment is amazing; they live behind a giant clock.

The music continues, and now Diane’s in a setting both familiar and unfamiliar: it’s familiar because David Lee and Howard Lyman are there; it’s unfamiliar because it’s an office in New York City instead of the old L/G/KeyboardSmash offices. Okay, I know they’re still in Chicago. But that... is definitely New York…

Anyway. Diane’s announcing her retirement. She stands and walks around the room, totally in control. The firm has grown since we last saw it. David and Howard congratulate her, and David secretly rejoices as the music ends. More power for him!

You know what I find odd? Lucca isn’t in the opening sequence. She’s ostensibly also a co-lead, so where is she in this sequence that starts of the show? My hope is that this doesn’t indicate she’s less of a co-lead and was instead an intentional move so her appearance later is more sudden. (Then again, this sequence doesn’t hint that Diane knows Maia or that Maia’s going to work at Diane’s firm, so… I see no reason Lucca couldn’t have been included too.)

The firm now has NINE name partners (LDGLLGLKT) because the Kings think they’re clever. I’m less amused by this than I am excited to know they (finally) understand that the audience is so over the name changes.

It’s Maia’s first day at LockhartKeyboardSmash, and she’s making friends one of the other new associates.

Maia wears a rosary ring, but she is not religious. Hm.

She is, however, nervous. She seems to be a very nervous person in general, though maybe that’s just my impression because we’re mostly seeing her in environments where she’s uncomfortable. (Maia is such an Alicia-esque character—the original casting call for her said it, not me!—that I wonder if Alicia used to act like that, too. Did Alicia struggle to put together a sentence without hesitating, the way Maia does? If so, when did she get that out of her system and learn to pause strategically instead? Law school? Being a politician’s wife? Gradually over time? Ok back to Maia now.)

I would never want to receive a job orientation from David Lee, and that’s all I have to say about that.

David calls off names of the new associates, and his tone changes when he gets to Maia. Be a little more obvious with your ass kissing, would you?

“Say hello to your parents for me, would you?” David tells her. He also informs her that some flowers have arrived for her, because apparently her parents are clueless as to the fact that she might not want to publicize, on her first day of work, that she’s the daughter of prominent billionaires.

Maia tells her mom not to send any more gifts; she doesn’t want to seem “entitled.” At least someone has some self-awareness! “Are people not being nice to you?” Maia’s mom, Bernadette Peters (!!!!!) asks. That one line is enough for me to recognize that it’s amazing Maia even understands that entitled is a thing people might call her.

Lenore, sitting in her office that looks like a living room but is really adjacent to a trading floor (what?), asks Maia if she wants Diane to give her her own office. Oh boy.

(Maia may not want to be seen as entitled… but I have to ask why, right out of law school, she took a job at her godmother’s firm. I’m not saying she shouldn’t have taken the job or anything... I’m just saying that while she understands she’s being perceived as entitled, she’s not exactly rocking the boat trying to accomplish things without her privilege. She seems pretty damn comfortable benefitting from it.)

Maia tries to rid herself of the Flowers of Privilege by mixing them in with the other LGKeyboardSmash floral arrangements. Howard walks by and assumes she’s a florist. Heh.

Maia is then called into Diane’s office. I love Diane’s new office, especially the wallpaper.

Diane also offers to give Maia her own office. This is because Diane is Maia’s godmother and she wants to spoil her. Oof. I get the impulse to help, but in what world is that helping to do anything other than make instant enemies for Maia?

Diane gives Maia a folio (is that what those things are called? I’m blanking on the word) that was given to her by Chicago’s first female public defender. She calls it a “baton” and tells Maia it’s her turn to carry it. Awww. It’s amazing how instantly I buy that Diane has a goddaughter even after seven seasons without a single mention of Maia.

Diane brings Maia into a deposition. Before we find out the topic of our COTW, we learn that Lucca’s not at LGSKGJSLG38527;;jslfj82745K anymore. What a shock.

Lucca’s been at Reddick and Boseman, the firm she’s at now, for four months. “Alicia too?” Diane wonders. “No, just me,” Lucca says pleasantly, but she doesn’t offer any further comments, so it comes off like unspoken shit went down. I don’t really care, though. I know why Alicia and Lucca aren’t working together and aren’t as close as they were, and it has nothing to do with them and everything to do with TGF’s plot. I don’t want TGF to tell me what Alicia’s up to, because I have my own headcanons. This line is the bare minimum for addressing her absence, and that’s fine by me. (I hope she and Lucca didn’t have a falling out, though. I would love to think they’re still friendly and working together, but obviously, if that were the case, there’d be a strong reason for Alicia to still show up frequently in TGF, and that’s not going to happen.)

Adrian Boseman walks in, interrupting any chance we had at learning more about Alicia’s whereabouts. I like you already, Adrian! No, but really: I like Adrian.

He sizes up the room, noting that all of the lawyers his firm brought are black and Diane’s whole team is white. Diane laughs off his comment. Sure, Diane.

The case is a police brutality case, and there’s a video. Case stuff happens; we spend a lot of time watching Maia react to it. Also there’s metadata, a word the Kings will never tire of using.

Maia thinks they should settle for 4 million (Diane’s asked for her opinion). Diane says they’ve been asked to settle for under $500,000. See, they’re representing Cook County now.

Adrian encourages Lucca to “play the radical” but she doesn’t want to; she thinks Diane will know. Lucca does anyway.

Diane makes an argument about Adrian’s firm taking on police brutality cases to make a profit. This is something I’d be interested in learning more about. The Kings said they’ve done their research on this, but I’d like to do a little research of my own.

“We’re both using this case, Lucca; why don’t you just stick to the facts?” Diane says. This is one of those arguments where it’s hard for me to determine who’s right and who’s wrong because we’re not given all the facts, but I think I’m going to side with Lucca here. There’s using a case to make a profit, and using a case to do good and make a profit. Only one of those sides contains “doing good,” so why would I suddenly only focus on the profit part?

Maia has the same questions I do. “Are we on the right side on this one?” she asks.

“We are on a necessary side,” Diane explains. Hold up. I understand that it’s necessary because this is how legal procedure works in this country and all that. But how is it necessary that Diane defend racist police departments who use unwarranted force and beat the shit out of black people? How is that a necessary side? Diane didn’t take on this case because she believes in the innocence of these particular policemen. She took on this case because Cook County is a good client to have. If she can sleep at night, then fine. But don’t tell me it’s a necessary side just because they might be innocent. You could say that about literally every single side of every single case. Isn’t that the whole point of trials? Everyone’s entitled to representation, innocent until proven guilty?

Diane continues with her speech: “People I’ve thought with all my heart were guilty turned out to be innocent, and people I thought were saints, they, um, they weren’t. That’s why you don’t go on instinct. You wait. You listen. And watch. Eventually everyone reveals themselves.” Argh. I find this so unsatisfying as an answer. It’s not bad advice to keep an open mind, but it feels like Diane’s not saying “keep an open mind instead of making snap judgments” but rather saying “keep an open mind because it’ll make you feel better about representing people you’d rather not be representing.” On second thought, that is useful advice. After all, Maia still has to defend clients she thinks are guilty, and maybe that would help her do it.

“People I thought were saints, they, um, they weren’t.” The Kings have said this line is about Alicia. If you follow me on Twitter, you know this has been under my skin for days now. At first, I thought Diane would never say these words. I’ve reconsidered. While I still think it’s odd she’d think of Alicia before, I dunno, the liberal legend who turned out to be a rapist (W205—I’m writing W in front of TGW episode numbers and F in front of TGF episode numbers, btw) or her dad who accused his best friend of being a communist (W419) or her husband who she discovered cheated on her, I suppose it’s possible, especially since this scene comes right after a meeting with Lucca. (Also, why would Diane have learned this lesson from Alicia’s betrayal in W722 and not from 40 years of being a lawyer?)

But, it irks me a little that Diane would use Saint Alicia as an example here. If anything, Diane was one of Alicia’s biggest critics throughout TGW’s run, and she was always suspicious of her (she never bought into the Saint Alicia myth!). In W101, Diane believes Alicia’s being entitled and trying to upstage her (Alicia is really attempting to help a client and clumsily moves a little too fast). There’s another season 1 episode where Diane is and remains convinced Alicia’s using SLG to fight Peter’s battles (this thought has not crossed Alicia’s mind). There’s a season two episode where Diane asks Alicia to join her new firm behind Will’s back, and the second Diane finds out Will knows about the new firm, she says that Alicia must’ve told him (Will didn’t know that Alicia knew). Diane befriends Alicia in season 3 in order to discourage her from sleeping with Will. Even in the later seasons, there are episodes like W620, where a misunderstanding is enough for Diane to believe Alicia’s scheming against her, or W703, where an even sillier misunderstanding leads Diane, for the second time in like five episodes, to mistrust Alicia. And that’s not even including the time that, you know, Alicia plotted for months to leave Diane’s firm and take clients with her. But sure. Diane thought Alicia was a saint.

I think what’s happening here is that the Kings thought they’d be cute by referring to Alicia as a saint, because SAINT ALICIA. The problem is that they put those words in Diane’s mouth, and now it sounds like Diane is saying she actually bought into the Saint Alicia crap. But maybe that’s the part of the point. Maybe Diane’s trying to save face just a little bit. After all, it’s easier to admit that you mistakenly believed in the same larger-than-life myth everyone else bought into than it is to admit that you had your suspicions, truly believed you knew someone, and were proven wrong. Ironically, if Diane’s trying to teach Maia that people aren’t always what they seem, she’d be better off telling her the full story.

(Um, also, I’m being a little unfair. Obviously a lot of the reason why Diane would reference Alicia here is that she was hurt—whether she “should have been” or not—by Alicia’s actions. I’m not questioning why Diane would mention Alicia; I’m questioning why she’d use the word saint to describe her own views towards a woman she’s been suspicious of since day one.)

At Reddick/Boseman, the attorneys are having an internal meeting about settlements, and we get our first glimpse of Barbara Kolstad, who would be my new favorite character if I didn’t also love all of the other characters. Barbara asks Lucca for advice on how to handle this. “I think Diane’s got something to prove and she’s out to prove it,” Lucca says. (Oh yeah! In all of my talk about Diane’s reasoning, I forgot to mention that this is her last case and she doesn’t want to lose it. Also, that reminds me that the last time Diane thought she was working her last case, the client fired her and hired Alicia instead. Yes. Diane definitely thought Alicia was a saint.)

Barbara understands what Lucca’s saying. I really like the way Erica Tazel plays Barbara’s thought process—her eyes express everything.

Seriously, I can’t wait to see more from Barbara and Adrian.

Reddick/Boseman is quite obviously the old LGksadjklasjflkahg set after some (minor) renovations. I think, mostly, they just painted, redecorated, and took out the central conference room. I don’t think there’s an in-universe reason they’re in the same space; I think there’s a budget reason.

Lucca has to put on a British accent so Adrian’s call will be put through faster. Haha, it’s just incredible that Lucca has a believable British accent. I don’t know how in the world they came up with that one.

Adrian is amused by Lucca’s fake/real accent, and I’m amused by his amusement. Unamused? Lucca.

Now we’re watching a retirement slide show for Diane. “Good Luck Diane! We’ll miss you!” a slide reads in an ugly font. The narration on the slideshow says that Diane was an assistant district attorney. Wait. So she practiced law somewhere other than Chicago (since it’s ADA and not ASA), and she didn’t start out in a private firm?! Woah. Also, omg, young Diane!

Diane’s many friends congratulate her and joke that if she wants to come out of retirement, they’ll have work for her.

The Rindells appear and briefly talk finances. Hmmm. Then Maia and Amy arrive, and Lenore asks when they’re getting married—they don’t have the Supreme Court excuse anymore. (So, Maia and Amy have been together for a while.)

A photo of Diane and Will pops up the slideshow next, and Diane wistfully stares at it. I’m glad that made it in. <3

Then the party’s over, and… that was fast. I was expecting to spend a whole act there.

Outside in the valet line, Maia’s dad gives her a weird warning about her uncle Jax.

Case stuff happens. Maia notices that there’s a car in the background of the video that has its own camera, so there’s an alternate recording of the events somewhere. What a great thing it is that Maia has enough money to know that! (I kid, I kid. It’s an important find.)

The familiar TGUniverse score is back now, but it sounds a bit more up-tempo and seems to have percussions now. Fine by me.

Maia feels triumphant for a moment, then Lyman mistakes her for a florist again (… ffs, I just wrote “florrist,” with two rs like I’m writing Florrick, because habit), and then she gets a call from Amy, informing her that their apartment is being searched.

Two things of note on the search warrant: one, Maia’s address is listed and it is a bogus address that gives no indication of where in the city she might live, and two, it’s dated 2/24/2017, so TGF takes place a few days ahead of realtime. I expect that TGF will be as bad with timeline as TGW was, so…

Amy tells Maia that the search is connected to Maia’s parents, then gets off the phone to argue with some agents who are trying to tell her what she is and isn’t allowed to do.

Maia calls her dad, who doesn’t pick up: he’s having a drink. Then Diane’s called out of a deposition to talk to her accountant. Uh oh.

Maia arrives at her family’s home just in time to see her dad being taken away in handcuffs. “I didn’t do it, Maia,” he says. “I know,” she replies. But does she? 

Diane hasn’t heard the news yet. She turns on the TV and sees what’s going on: BILLIONAIRE INVESTOR HENRY RINDELL ARRESTED. He ran a Ponzi scheme… and now all of Diane’s retirement money is gone. 

“FUCK,” Diane says when she learns all her savings are gone. That’s a very well deserved inaugural f-bomb, show!

Now it’s time for the credits sequence. At first, they seem like nothing special: cast names in an ugly font and images of objects you’d find in an office. Then the objects BEGIN TO SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST IN SLOW MOTION as the score gets more operatic. I’m not sure I understand, but I’m not sure I need to.

(I don’t associate most of the TGW/TGF score with Alicia—more with the general feel of TGUniverse’s Chicago—but it’s weird to me that the piece of music in the TGF credits is the one from the 6x21 scene where Alicia and Grace turn Zach’s room into a home office. It’s possible they’ve used it before, but it only took me a second to place it. And I’m bad at identifying instrumental music, so I must strongly associate it with Alicia. Weird. 6x21 is an episode so Alicia-centric that when I wrote about it, I suggested that TGW no longer needed most of its non-Alicia series regulars!)

This episode was directed by Brooke Kennedy. I like it when Brooke directs, since she’s the producer most involved with the day-to-day on set. She has a very good understanding of the show’s themes, and she’s usually able to find interesting ways to visualize those themes.

This show was not just created by the Kings: there’s some other dude listed as a creator. I’m not even going to bother to write his name here, because… well, because I haven’t heard much about his role in the creative process, which I take to mean that he was called in to help with the show when it looked like the Kings weren’t going to be involved, and the moment the Kings returned, his level of involvement decreased significantly. I’m curious to know the real story.

Apparently you can see some dude’s bare ass in the first scene of act 2, but it’s so hidden in shadow I’d have to raise my screen’s brightness all the way and really look to see it. And, I’m sorry, CBS, but I really don’t care enough about this guy’s ass to get excited about the nudity.

The naked guy is with Lucca. Lucca’s watching the Rindell scandal unfold on TV. She recognizes Maia and watches carefully.

Maia, Amy, and Lenore wait for the family lawyer to arrive. Maia was on the board of a foundation, which might’ve been a front. Amy realizes this is bad: Maia needs her own lawyer. Lenore tries to convince Maia otherwise, but Maia knows Amy’s right.

Some dude on the news is insisting that Maia must’ve been in on the scheme. As the news plays, Maia showers. Amy joins her and comforts her. I’m excited to get more moments like this from Amy and Maia—not shower scenes, but scenes that show how they support each other from day to day, how well they know each other, and stuff like that.

Diane and her accountant go over the details of her new financial reality. It’s bad. Her money’s gone, even money that wasn’t involved in the fund is at risk (including Kurt’s money; they haven’t divorced yet), and all the charities she’s steered towards the Rindells have also lost their money. The house in France is gone. And Diane can’t even retire. She might not even be able to keep her apartment.

Christine Baranski is amazing. Have I said that yet?

At the next Lockhart Deckler Lee whatever meeting, Diane sits at the head of the table. Brooke positions the camera behind Diane, so we see everyone staring at her. She commanded the room in the earlier scene where she announced her retirement, but here, she’s not the one with the power. And everyone can see right through her speech about not wanting to retire.

Diane’s lost most of her leverage, but not all of it: she can still remind the partners they’re going to lose Cook County’s business without her. The score from W601 beings to play. Not sure why.

In the elevator at work, someone recognizes Maia and begins to yell at her. “I know where you work, you stupid bitch,” he screams. You ruined everything, you stupid bitch, SING WITH ME!

Maia’s new lawyer, Yesha, is waiting for her when she gets off the elevator. Yesha is 25, so Maia doesn’t trust her. Yesha seems capable, but inexperienced, and Maia resents having to get a lawyer at all.

Diane embarks on a quest to find a new job. Might one of her friends that said they’d always have a position open for her be willing to take her on? Everyone thinks she’s looking for an emeritus position. She’s not. And not even her friends have room for her, not now.

Diane gets to say “bullshit” and it feels so natural and appropriate to the moment it was only on rewatch that I processed it as a curse word. I’m glad—and unsurprised—to see that the Kings know how and when to use swear words.

“You’re poison. No firm will hire you,” Diane’s friend, Renee, informs her. Quick! Where’s the nearest desk!? Shove everything off of it!!! Now!!!

After a long and frustrating day, Diane returns home to find Kurt waiting on the stairs outside her home. She invites him in for a drink, and they discuss divorce. “It’s about money. It’s not about us,” she insists. Kurt doesn’t seem to care. Diane says it’s in his lap. Kurt says he didn’t leave her; Diane says that actually, he did—when he slept with Holly. I’m not sure I understand why Diane wouldn’t initiate the divorce? Does she not really want to? Does she not want to accept that it’s over? Does she want Kurt to accept responsibility? Maybe her reasons will become clearer later on. Or maybe she’ll stay married to but estranged from Kurt until season seven and beyond. (Sound familiar?)

Kurt isn’t even sure where they stand now. Honestly, neither am I. Did Kurt really cheat on Diane while they were married?! I still can’t believe that.

At any rate, Kurt still knows how to be there for Diane. She explains her current predicament to him and starts to cry. “How is my life suddenly so fucking meaningless?” Diane wonders. “It isn’t,” Kurt reassures her. I’ve said it before and I have a feeling I’ll be saying it many times over the course of TGF’s run: Christine Baranski is amazing.

I’m rereading this section of my recap, and it just occurred to me that I didn’t even think to comment about what it means for someone as successful as Diane to lose everything she’s known. I think part of the reason my mind didn’t go there is that this screams “NEW SHOW, NEW SCANDAL” instead of “NATURAL PLOT DEVELOPMENT,” but I think I should try to treat it as the latter. Diane’s emotional arc, no matter why it came about, is something that’ll drive this show going forward. For ages, I’ve thought of Diane as a character who works best in a supporting role. She’s well-defined enough to be a lead, but she’s so stable and successful—where’s the story? I can picture her leading a procedural, or a character study drama, but a huge part of her character was that she’d worked so hard, pre-TGW, that aside from firm drama bullshit and ambitions of getting a judgeship, her life was already the way she wanted it to be. She was more captivating than her story arc, if that makes sense. Because of the way the Kings like to write, it makes a lot of sense to me that to promote Diane to lead, they’d want to turn her into an unlikely fish out of water. Now she’s a captivating character with a captivating plot. And better still, a lot of the reason this plot is likely to work is that we know what Diane’s accomplished and how hard she’s worked. When she cries about her life feeling meaningless, we know exactly what meaning she used to find in her life. And, because she was always so stable and self-assured (and well-written!) as a secondary character on TGW, watching her lose everything hits even harder.

Maia’s playing with her rosary ring and lurking in reception, waiting to greet Diane. Diane’s not in a great mood, to say the least.

“We have a little opening right here,” Adrian advises Lucca, observing the icy Maia/Diane interaction. "Go for jugular.” As he says this, from approximately his POV, Maia is literally standing in the opening between two panes of glass.

Case stuff happens. This case is barely there. Lucca makes things personal, and Diane steps out.

Elevator Asshole who called Maia a stupid bitch has returned to complain more about Maia. Dude. It sucks that you lost your money, but you’re a misogynistic asshole who’s hanging around lobbies all day to harass a 25 year old woman at her place of work. You’re pathetic. And scary. And please don’t follow Maia, you creep.

Maia runs into the ladies’ room. Lucca takes care of the creep. He screams he’s going to sue Maia, and Lucca screams at him, “THEN DO IT. BUT RIGHT NOW, FUCK OFF!” YAY LUCCA!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (I want so much more from Lucca in this series. In the first episode, she’s pretty much just playing lawyer and supportive friend. I’ll have more to say about Lucca in episode two.)

Lucca walks into the bathroom, and Maia scurries into a stall, not sure if whoever opened the door is a friend or a foe. Lucca looks straight into the mirror and gives Maia a pep talk.

“When they see you cry, it makes them happy. So get it out of your system here,” she begins. Maia eyes her through the opening in the stall door—Lucca’s positioned herself where she can easily be seen. And she knows Maia’s watching.

Maia doesn’t understand why Lucca, who’s on the opposing side of the case, would be helping her. So Lucca explains it’s because Maia is the New Alicia. At least, that’s the (not very sub) subtext of her words.

No, but really: why is Lucca helping Maia? Lucca may like to say she’s out for herself, and she speaks with the non-nonsense, hard, strident tone of someone you wouldn’t necessarily want to befriend… but Lucca is actually a really kind person. And she’s not just kind to people she knows or had a reason to be kind to. She’s kind to people who should be her competition. I don’t know if there’s something she finds compelling about victims of scandals (my two examples of “Lucca is a kind person” are Lucca helping Alicia and Lucca helping Maia, and obviously Alicia and Maia have some significant things in common) or if she’s normally the kind who would reach out without realizing what she’s doing, though. I have a feeling she doesn’t do this too often, because anyone that’s constantly looking out for strangers is going to have at least a few friends.

(Which makes me wonder: Lucca helps Alicia right away, but only becomes her friend after months of working with each other and watching Alicia’s 7x13 breakdown. Does Lucca help Maia because she realizes she can help, because she wants to help, or because Maia reminds her of Alicia? Or all three?)

“I had a friend. Went through the same thing. Said it was hell for a few months,” Lucca says. Maia opens the door. Lucca doesn’t turn around the whole time, and when she’s done with her speech, she turns sharply and leaves.

Lucca’s speech is long, at least by the Kings’ standards. It’s also nearly identical to the speech Alicia gives her client in W101. I wish I could appreciate this more as a moment for Lucca, but it just makes me think about Alicia. To her credit, Lucca delivers the speech in a different manner than Alicia does. Alicia manages to be empathetic without getting emotional (which is, I think, why she made such a good handholder for clients—they felt her connecting with them but she still always came across as professional). Lucca is clearly sympathetic to Maia’s situation—she’s giving the speech, after all—but it kinda sounds like she’s trying to keep her tone as impersonal as David Lee’s orientation spiel, with only occasional glances (via the mirror) to let Maia know she’s a friend.  

Diane gets a case related video and it’s bad for her client.

Adrian stops by to see Diane. She seems almost too tired to talk. But then he says something interesting: “I want you to join our firm.” Diane laughs, but Adrian is serious. He offers to let Diane be their diversity hire. Heh.

Why isn’t Adrian afraid of the Rindell scandal? His firm wasn’t affected by it, because the Rindell fund “never invited black folk.”

Adrian offers Diane the opportunity to “fuck them back” for fucking her over. Why do I feel like Adrian is going to be responsible for most of the swearing on this show?

Adrian—whose office really looks like Will’s office, because I’m pretty sure it is—and Barbara fight over the offer Adrian extended to Diane.

Barbara’s concern about Diane is that “she doesn’t know her place. She’s not gonna be happy until she’s in the inner circle.” I’m not sure what new, desperate Diane looks like, but that totally describes the old, confident Diane. You don’t get to be that self-assured and content making big decisions quickly without fully believing you deserve a seat at the table.

(In the TGW Pilot, Diane had a similar suspicion about Alicia—a junior associate who doesn’t think she’s a junior associate—and that was way off base.)

Adrian argues that he and Barbara are also ambitious like that, and ambition is a good thing. Barbara’s point isn’t that ambition is bad, though: it’s that they don’t want “people who are only happy when they’re giving orders.” She calls in Lucca for backup.

Lucca’s dress has a friggin’ cat on it. I love this show’s costume department.

Lucca argues in favor of bringing Diane in because she’s a good lawyer, idealistic, and cunning. Adrian laughs at Barbara’s move backfiring on her. And now Diane’s a junior partner.

Amy is watching a sex tape. Someone’s put some generic lesbian sex tape on TMZ and is claiming it’s Maia and Amy. “This isn’t even us! This person has a tattoo!” Amy exclaims. Maia tells her to ignore it—she’s a quick study.

Diane’s in her office, looking at a picture of her and Will, when Kurt shows up.

Kurt says he doesn’t want a divorce—he “doesn’t want the door to close completely.” Is the door really open, though? “It is closed between us,” Diane states. Kurt gets a bit agitated: “Then divorce me. But I won’t do it.” I’m curious, everyone: why do you think Diane’s insisting that Kurt be the one to initiate a divorce?

“You Were Right About Everything” begins to play again. Maia and Amy are in bed getting ready to go to sleep. “My parents saw the tape,” Amy says. They don’t believe it’s not her, and that breaks my heart a little.

Diane’s back in the Lockhart/Deckler conference room. Like the first partner meeting scene, she’s standing up. She’s in control, announcing her new firm. She walks around the table on her way out, drops the bombshell that they’re going to have to agree to a $6 million payout on the police brutality case, and defiantly exits the room. “Want the door closed?” she says. She leaves before she gets the answer.

David Lee fires Maia, who’s already having a rough day (week). Maia’s returned the folio to Diane, as though to indicate that she’s giving up (Diane said the folio would force her to accomplish something that would make her feel she deserved it). When Diane goes to return it, she sees that Maia’s being fired.

As Maia leaves the firm, Howard stops her to say he’s sorry she was fired; he likes the flowers. Wait, he knows she was fired but still thinks she was in charge of the flowers? Why would that be the case?

As Diane’s packing up her office, she calls Adrian to let him know Maia’s role in the COTW. She suggests that Adrian hire Maia. This is one of those moments that seems innocent enough—Diane’s just trying to help out her goddaughter who’s going through an awful scandal—but when you think about it, Diane’s first act at the predominantly black firm that took her in when no one else would is to get her (formerly) wealthy white goddaughter a job. YMMV on this. It’s not wrong of Diane to make this suggestion, but it’s this kind of thing that, when unchecked, leads to the lack of diversity Geneva called Peter out on in W412.

Maia sits outside of the firm, staring off into space and watching a WALK sign turn to DON’T WALK. I was going to write something about how Alicia also stared at a WALK/DON’T WALK sign when she found out Will died, but apparently my memory has mixed up Alicia’s feelings after Will’s death with a visual from the scene where Prady realizes he’s lost the SA election. Don’t know what happened there. (I think I mixed up the insert of Alicia watching a mother and child cross the street with the WALK/DON’T WALK?) At any rate, the writers have used this before to symbolize an existential crisis. I think it works because it suggests that there should be movement—walk when it says walk; run when the light starts blinking; don’t get stuck at the light for another traffic cycle—when there isn’t any. Maia’s at a standstill, stuck even when she should be moving with urgency.

Diane sees Maia sitting there and approaches with the folio. “You left this,” she says. “Give it to someone who needs it. I’m done,” Maia responds. “No, you’re not. Let’s go,” Diane decides. “Where?” Maia wants to know. “Someplace,” Diane says. “Why?” Maia can’t wrap her head around this. “Because it’s not over yet,” Diane reassures her. No, it’s not. The Good Fight is just beginning.

[florrickandassociates]

TGF Thoughts: 1x03-- The Schtup List

I got my recap done early this week, and as I was writing I started to wonder about something. I’ve gotten a bunch of new followers in the last week or so (Hi! Thanks for following!) and I’m not sure if y’all were TGW fans or if you’re new to the franchise. And I’m really curious about that, so, even if you’re not following me or reading my recap beyond this intro paragraph, I’d love messages (anon is fine!) about why you’re watching TGF and how much, if any, of TGW you’ve seen. 

Anyway. Recap is under the cut! 

My favorite thing about the TGF credits is that I don’t have to watch them. Let me explain: for years, I read press releases for every TGW episode, and so I always knew which guest star would pop up when. But CBS isn’t releasing press releases for TGF, so the only way to know who’s going to show up in an episode is to read the credits. On TGW, the credits played over the show, so they were impossible to avoid even if you didn’t already know who would be guest starring. But on TGF, if I just don’t look at the credit sequence until I rewatch the episode, I can actually be surprised when guest stars show up!

In a classic TGW move, we pick up right where we left off: Maia’s parents’ house. It’s awkward. Jax asks Maia how she is like nothing’s wrong. After a pause, Maia says she’s “good” a little too loudly. “Very good,” she adds.

She stares at her mom incredulously. “Glad things are going so well for you, mom,” she snarks as she makes her exit. Lenore follows, protesting that Maia’s misinterpreting what she saw. “My dad is in jail for something he didn’t do, and you’re fucking the man who put him there?” Maia accuses. Woah, harsh, but accurate. I get the sense Maia doesn’t use that word around her mom often, especially not in this sort of context. Also, on TGW she totally would’ve said “banging.”

“Don’t you use that language with me,” Lenore scolds (see! This is why we need All Access! Because the fact that Maia can use the f-word, then be reprimanded by her mother for using inappropriate language, conveys a lot about their dynamic, and you couldn’t do that with “banging.” Maia uses that word on purpose because it’s harsh and crude; she’s angry. Lenore reacts like the parent of a teenager, not the parent of an adult; it’s clear she’s still thinking of Maia as a child and clear she’s the type of person that finds such language inappropriate.)

Maia can’t believe Lenore is policing her language instead of talking about the fact that she is screwing her brother-in-law. Lenore claims it’s to help Henry. Basically, she’s claiming she’s sleeping with Jax to manipulate him or get information. Maia can’t believe that, either.

“You’re telling me you’re doing this for dad?” she sneers. “Okay. Good to know.” Lenore asks Maia not to tell Henry.

I don’t know who to trust here, but I feel bad for Maia.

Once she’s back inside her car, Maia takes a minute to process what she’s seen: “Oh, my God.”

And then, abruptly, we’re in a hospital in Syria watching a surgery. The surgeons are being assisted by an American doctor at Chicago’s Harbor Hospital (I believe that’s the same fictional hospital from TGW’s 1x12, among other episodes).

Barbara gives a rundown of the firm’s finances at a partner meeting. Among other things, she mentions they’re still waiting for a capital contribution from a partner—Diane is still trying to get her money together. Assuming Diane follows through, there’s 8.5 million in profit to be split among the partners. Except for that a big client hasn’t paid their retainer. They’re down 12 million without that retainer. Holy shit, that’s a big client. This means all the equity partners are on the hook for $300,000 more this year. That has to mean they have 11-12 partners and the firm is taking a loss of 3.5 million without the retainer?  Oh my God, why do I always end up caring about these things?

Adrian isn’t worried about the retainer. Diane, on the other hand, is very worried about having the $300,000 she already owed doubled.

Marissa is answering Diane’s phone when a man walks over to her desk. She asks the caller if she “can” take a message, and when she hangs up, the man corrects her: it’s “may I.” “Thanks. May I help you?” Marissa replies. Turns out this man is the investigator, and he’s upset that Marissa found the names for the class action without him. This makes me wonder why Lucca and Maia and Diane didn’t ask the investigator to, since they didn’t know Marissa was looking and needed it in a hurry.

Anyway, the investigator, whose name is Jay, I think, though he hasn’t introduced himself yet, doesn’t want Marissa to keep doing his job for him.

Marissa interrupts the partners’ meeting to tell Diane there’s a doctor on the line for her. He was arrested for terrorism.

Maia meets with her lawyer, Yesha. Maia wants to see her father, but Yesha thinks that’s not wise. “I need to warn him. I think he’s being set up,” Maia explains.

Yesha reluctantly says it’s okay, but she’s going to be there, too. Maia thinks that’s not necessary, but Yesha sees what she can’t: “There will be a moment when you tell a client, ‘for your own good, you have to do what I say.’ This is one of those moments for you.” That’s an excellent way of putting it. Yesha needs to be there so everything’s subject to attorney-client privilege.

Diane finds her doctor client in holding. He explains why he was conducting surgery remotely. Lucca pops up out of nowhere and inserts herself right into the conversation. Diane isn’t pleased, and calls Barbara to ask why she sent Lucca.

A head’s up text would’ve been nice. But…

Barbara sends Lucca because she “has experience in federal court.” To which Diane replies, “Barbara, I was a name partner at the town’s biggest firm.” And that’s exactly Barbara’s point. “Yes, and I’m a name partner at this firm,” Barbara says. “I’m not questioning that,” Diane responds. But you are, aren’t you? You’re on the phone with Barbara when you could be coordinating strategy with Lucca. I get where Diane’s coming from, since Barbara blindsided her with this and sometimes you really do just need one voice to get your point across. But does this really require a phone call from the courtroom?

“Did you sometimes overrule the judgement of junior partners?” Barbara asks.

In fact, she did!!!!! Does anyone else remember the plot in 7x14 (a good TGW ep that’s possibly also the most forgettable episode they’ve ever done) where Diane tried to get Lucca off a case (so Lucca could work on something tedious and unimportant) to prove a point to Alicia about who had the power? And how Diane said she feared Alicia’s “independence and resistance to oversight” upon coming back to the firm as a junior partner? I sided with Diane on that one, because she needed to set a precedent for the working relationship going forward. So I’m going to side with Barbara on this one, for exactly the same reason. (And, if you really want to look into hierarchy: these are both instances where Lucca has to do what she’s asked to do in order to prove a point to someone more senior.)

“So this is a lesson in humility?” Diane wonders. Only partially. Barbara has other reasons, too: the top AUSA, Colin Morello, is on the other side, so it’s a good idea to have two people on the defense.

“Why are you really doing that?” Adrian asks Barbara. “What do you mean? I want them to work together,” Barbara says. “No, Barbara, it’s a power play. I know that sound in your voice when you’ve got some kind of hidden agenda,” Adrian says. Barbara does seem to share her opinions via subtext, which is a character trait that I bet will annoy Diane. It’s not that Diane is always 100% upfront and clear about her intentions (I could write an essay on how she’s not), but Diane’s style does tend to involve coming across as upfront, and I think she responds best to others who are upfront. Or, rather, to others who seem like they’re upfront.

Barbara explains yet another reason to put Lucca on that case: Lucca needs to feel needed. She’s a good employee and Barbara knows Lucca won’t stay put if she feels undervalued. That’s a very smart insight into Lucca, whose confidence never seems to waver, and who would totally quit a job she wasn’t satisfied with. Lucca used to work in bond court and never loved the idea of a big law firm, anyway. She’ll bolt if she’s not respected… and she already lost her office to Diane.

And I don’t even think Barbara knows that Lucca’s the one who destroyed* Diane’s marriage in court!

*made the destruction public; Lucca didn’t make Kurt fuck Holly.

“That’s the thing about power. You got to take it from somebody to give it to somebody else,” Adrian says. “Thank you, Sun Tzu,” Barbara replies, unimpressed. Is it really that bad of an idea for Barbara to make a power play now? What happens to her firm down the line if she doesn’t set the tone now? Diane’s already brought over two more white people without recognizing her own biases… and last week, Diane hired Marissa right after a conversation with Barbara about racial hiring. Barbara built a firm with her own ideas for its culture and purpose and place in the landscape; Diane’s (unchecked) presence is a threat to all of Barbara’s hard work (and to the people that are helped by the firm she helped to build).

“Barbara. Be nice to Diane. Don’t rule it over her like that, huh?” Adrian warns patronizingly. Why? Why should Barbara be “nice” to Diane? Barbara didn’t know Diane was being asked to join, and her name’s on the letterhead! And Barbara is not being mean to Diane or hazing her or anything like that or even continuously doing this. She is setting a tone.

I swear, if Adrian had said “are you jealous?” which, tbh, feels like the natural extension of his tone/line there, I would be ranting in all caps right now. I mean, how dare Barbara feel threatened by her partner making decisions without her and then telling her she just needs to be nice? 

“Do I question your leadership?” Barbara responds. “All the time,” Adrian says. They both laugh. “Okay. I’ll behave,” Barbara promises.

(I don’t mean to say Barbara’s fully in the right here, because I think she could’ve made her point without having Lucca surprise Diane in court. A simple, “Diane, I want Lucca on this with you,” would’ve made the same point.)

Court stuff happens. Diane and Lucca both respond at the same time to something Colin Morello, our only white male series regular (whom @fle has thus named “Token”) says. Guys, work together.

This case is really interesting, but I’m not spending my time recapping it. (I really don’t know how many new readers I have for these things, but I usually like to ignore the cases and focus on the characters. Sometimes, a case will set me off—usually if they make an argument that doesn’t make sense or if they touch on a subject I know enough about to have opinions on—and I’ll talk about it, but mostly, I’ll just say, “Case stuff happens.”

Adrian and Barbara are trying to get the missing $12 million, and so they meet with the client at their new executive dining room. Obviously, the problem isn’t that they’re lacking in money. The client is a little evasive. The board might want to go a different direction, now that there’s a new administration. They might be going with a different minority owned business now.

The client knows that elevators are awkward and doesn’t get in with Barbara and Adrian. (Okay, no, the real reason he doesn’t get in is that he has another lunch meeting.)

“It’s what I said against Trump. I spoke at a rally,” Barbara determines. (Yay, Barbara!) Adrian thinks that’s not it, then gets an idea. He goes back up to the dining room, and sure enough, there’s the client, meeting with the head of another minority-owned law firm.

According to Investigator Jay, the other law firm is small, just 12 lawyers, and it’s moved from D.C. Its founder ran a Trump PAC.

“Wow. So we’re going bankrupt because we didn’t pander to Trump,” Adrian realizes. I wonder if this is actually playing out anywhere.

Case stuff happens. The scene where the doctor is surrounded by men in suits and taken into custody looks like something that could’ve happened on BrainDead. Space bugs!

Even though we already know that Yesha’s going to be with Maia when she visits her father, director Marta Cunningham cleverly underlines how intrusive the presence of lawyers is in this personal moment. First, we see only Maia. Then we see Henry, who looks uncomfortable. It’s only then we get a medium-long shot of the room, establishing that Yesha’s sitting right next to Maia.

And the trick works again. Henry responds to Maia, then Maia’s the one looking uncomfortable, and then we’re clued in to what the characters already know: Henry also brought his lawyer.

This makes conversation impossible, but Henry does manage to mention that Lenore stopped by earlier that morning. That worries Maia, and she wants more information. But Lenore didn’t share anything unexpected.

Maia weighs how to proceed. “Do you really think that mom is helping you?” Maia asks. “Helping me with…?” Henry responds. “Well, is she staying by you, or, you know, is she standing by… Jax?” Maia rephrases. Henry doesn’t understand why that would be the case. She’s trying to convey that there’s reason to be suspicious, and everyone in the room picks up on it.

“We should end this,” Henry says. Maia doesn’t understand, but then she gets it: Her dad hugs her, and before the lawyers can stop him, he whispers some information to Maia.

Maia refuses to pass the information on to Yesha—and she doesn’t even hide that there’s information. Yesha reminds her that there’s no child-parent privilege. But Maia’s made her mind up anyway.

RBK needs to look less liberal, which means they need a Trump voter. But, LOL, they’re having trouble finding one.

Case stuff happens. Diane wants to take the lead, but Lucca thinks she’s in a better position to argue against Colin. Diane notices Lucca’s effect on Colin, and says Lucca can go first. Hey, team work! (I would’ve loved a little more from Diane in this episode, specifically more about Diane’s working relationship with Lucca. Is there any bad blood between them after 7x22? Or does Diane mostly fault Alicia for that?)

Diane calls Marissa and asks her to find a witness from the Medical Licensing Board. Marissa starts to ask questions to clarify, but decides to just do it herself. Is it bad that my first thought upon watching this scene was, “I bet if Diane had hired one of the candidates Barbara found, they’d know how to take care of this request”? (Marissa can and will learn, of course.)

Because it’s urgent, Marissa rushes to find someone else to help. Maia notices her rushing around and asks her what she needs. Marissa needs Jay; Maia doesn’t know who he is. “He’s about this tall, black,” Marissa describes. “That’s not very helpful, is it?” she realizes. No, it’s not, and also, you couldn’t describe his fashion or his hair style?

Marissa volunteers to help Maia whenever Diane’s out. “What are you doing at 4?” Maia asks.

Marissa barges into a meeting to find Jay. She says she was needed to do something investigative, and Jay asked her to let him know if that happened. This doesn’t sound like an investigative task to me, since Diane would’ve, you know, asked an investigator to do this if it were, but Marissa’s new and Jay can help, so, sure.

RBK has 80 lawyers and 50 staff, if you were curious, which I definitely was. None of them voted for Trump. Or, as Barbara points out, none of them were willing to admit it. Wouldn’t surprise me if it really were the former. But it’s not. See, Julius Cain voted Trump. “Seriously?” Barbara can’t believe it. But she’s more focused on the goal than surprised by this revelation, and says Julius will pitch for them. Julius worries about being ostracized and isolated. Well, I mean, do unto others as you would have others do unto you, right? And we know who you voted for and the policies he supports. (Normally I’d say people shouldn’t be looked at differently because of their political beliefs. This past election has me reconsidering that, especially since I know Julius isn’t ignorant or misinformed.)

“Kanye voted for Trump,” Barbara tries to comfort Julius. “No, he didn’t. He said he would have if he did vote,” Julius feels the need to clarify. Barbara promises only she and Adrian will know. But that doesn’t feel true.

“Really? Did he say why?” Adrian asks when he hears the news. “Conservative politics,” Barbara explains. I’ve seen some people say this episode doesn’t do enough to explain why Julius would’ve made that choice, and while I agree the episode could’ve gone a lot deeper, I’m also amused by everyone’s reactions. I imagine Julius was one of those people who assumed we’d just get a conservative administration that functioned like most other conservative administrations. How’d that work out?

Adrian makes the same comment about Kanye. Heh.

Barbara and Adrian both realize that Julius will be ostracized because of this no matter what.  

Lucca’s in a hurry—too much of a hurry to get a burger. Luckily for her, Colin is already eating a burger and offers her half. She has to take it because they don’t have much time.

Colin taunts her about the case. A blonde lawyer wearing way more makeup than characters on this show usually wear in court walks past and whispers in Colin’s ear. Lucca teases him about it, and about his general “cute little metrosexual thing; the ‘oh my god the law is just something I stumbled into,’ shit-eating grin” thing.

Lucca doesn’t eat half of her half of the burger, but she takes a few of Colin’s fries and leaves.

Court stuff happens. Marissa arrives with a witness. Diane thanks her, and Marissa tries to explain that Jay found her. Diane doesn’t have time to listen. “Okay,” Marissa says to herself. I hope that means she’ll mention it again later, especially if Diane tries to praise her again.

There are lots of images of clocks in this episode to underline the time constraint. Thanks for reminding me I can’t read analog clocks as quickly as I should be able to, show!

Maia goes to visit Jax. They make a bit of small talk before Maia says she’s looking for answers. “How’s that not the truth?” Maia says when Jax recaps Henry’s “lies.” “You know the truth, Maia. You watched your parents all those years,” Jax tells her. He explains that Henry got lucky and didn’t want to be seen as anything other than incredible, so he got a scheme going. I don’t know who to believe, but so far, Jax definitely seems like the least trustworthy person here. He’s so eager to tell his version of events, and he’s sleeping with his brother’s wife while his brother is in prison.

“Why are you sleeping with my mom?” Maia asks when Jax finishes recounting his version of events. Jax denies it, so Maia spits, “Fuck you.” Heh.

Then the phone rings. Maia tells Jax to answer it—she’s not going anywhere. He falls right into her trap, and she rushes to his computer (which Henry gave her the password for) while he takes the call. The call is from Marissa—that’s what Maia needed at 4:00—and it’s not about anything important. Marissa uses the word “regarding” a ton of times in a few sentences, then gets Jax to write down an “important” message.

Meanwhile, Maia finds what she’s looking for: Jax’s “Schtup List.” So, question: if Henry knows Jax’s password and what’s on Jax’s computer, how can we be sure that Henry didn’t put this on Jax’s computer to frame him?

Now Jay has to go to Marissa, because the family of the patient in the COTW won’t talk to him but they will talk to a white girl.

Jax finally hangs up, but Maia’s done before he notices. She leaves abruptly.

While Maia’s plan to distract Jax was smart, I’m not so sure the whole digging-around-on-Jax’s-computer thing was a good move. I know it’s family, but at what point will she doubt her father? She could’ve just put herself in a very bad situation. I don’t know if I should admire her commitment to her family or worry that she’s setting herself up for a legal disaster. Possibly both.

Adrian still can’t believe Julius voted for Trump. I sort of can. At least, I can believe that of all of the characters on the show in this episode, excluding the client and the rival firm owner, Julius is the most likely to have voted for him.

Case stuff happens and Marissa helps out.

Case stuff happens in court.

Get some digital clocks, show, dammit!

Diane and Lucca sort of win in court. They sort of shake hands, sort of hold hands; it’s sweet. I just wish there’d been a little more time to look at their dynamic. The tension faded so quickly the resolution feels… not undeserved, because I don’t want to overstate how much tension there was, but perhaps underdeveloped.  

The partners applaud Julius for getting their twelve million back. He’s happy, but then he goes back to his office and finds the rival firm’s leader, Andrew Hart.  Hart reminds him that from now on, no one will want to talk to Julius at RBK. He drops off his card, just in case. Gah, we’re not already doing partnership musical chairs, are we?! Not even three full episodes of peace?!

Lucca meets Colin for drinks. He tells her she did a good job and they flirt. Lucca says he’s not her type, so she’ll pick someone out for him. That’s not flirty at all, nope. 

Colin takes a call, and Lucca notices the TV in the bar showing a news story about Syria. Turns out she didn’t win. The patient died anyway, along with those in the operating room with him, because the government was trying to lure the patient’s brother, a known terrorist, to a location they could easily attack. Damn. Colin didn’t know it was a set-up, either.  

(Note that TGF’s win/loss record is currently 2-1, but both wins are complicated. The first episode is a loss for Diane and Maia, but it becomes a win because they switch sides. The second episode is just a loss. The third is a win that’s really a loss. I’ve tried to track win/loss records for TGW before, and it always ends up looking like this. I believe TGW’s first three episodes are: win, loss but there’s justice for the victim (it just doesn’t help the firm), favorable plea.

Maia takes the schtup list to her dad, no lawyers present. “What is it?” Maia asks. WAIT, you took your dad, who is in prison, information you downloaded off of someone else’s computer, and took it to him without knowing what it was or asking more questions before you handed it over?!

Maia only finds out once the information’s in her father’s hands that it might also implicate her mom. That’s fun!

I’m curious to know how these early decisions of Maia’s will play out. I hope I’m just being cynical and she’s right to trust her father. (Though I fear that right now, she’s trusting her father more than she usually would out of anger over what she witnessed her mom and Jax doing!) And I hope that, if that’s the case, no one else uses this against her. Maia’s obviously in the dark about the actual scheme, but if she keeps doing stuff like this, someone could very easily paint a picture that makes her look guilty.

Maybe next week we’ll get more Diane and more of Maia’s personal life? I’d really love to see more about who Maia is when she’s not caught up in the conspiracy drama.  

[florrickandassociates]

TGF Thoughts-- 1x02: First Week

Thoughts on 1x02 under the cut! 

(I did it! I recapped two episodes in one week!)

First Week takes advantage of its ability to swear from the very start: “Bitch. Fucking bitch. I know where you live,” a man says angrily. This delightful (by which I mean vile) message is on Maia’s personal cell phone. She’s listening in the elevator on the way to work, and it’s evident, watching her reactions, that this is getting to her. Phone Twitter Egg #1 then promises to rape both Maia and Amy (though he doesn’t refer to Amy by name, instead choosing to use a slur). Maia moves on to the next message, which starts off well enough: “Hi. Good morning.” Maia relaxes for a split second, before Phone Twitter Egg #2 spits, “fuck you.” Maia tenses again, then scrolls through her voicemail. It’s full of unknown numbers leaving multiple messages a minute, presumably all like the two we’ve heard.

This opening makes me appreciate that TGF is on All Access. The writers don’t have to dance around the language that most directly and concisely makes their point, and they don’t have to sub in words (think about how the TGW characters always had to say “banging” when you could totally tell they wanted to say “fucking”). Do we need to hear this abusive language to understand what’s going on? No. But there’s something about how explicit it is—and I mean explicit both in the sense of “clear” and the sense of “R-rated”--  that shows exactly what Maia’s up against.

On a different note, is Reddick/Boseman supposed to be literal LGjhahagkjashfl? They didn’t even try to make the elevator look different.

Maia tells the receptionist it’s her first day and she’s not sure where to go. The receptionist holds up a finger, telling her to wait, so she looks at a stack of copies of the Cook County Vindicator instead. I wonder when this insert was filmed, because there’s a headline that says “TRUMP POLICIES FACE PUSHBACK FROM CIVIL RIGHTS GROUPS.” It begins “Less than two months after being sworn in […] Trump is facing the fiercest opposition to the implementation of his new his immigration policies...” I’m pretty sure, since it says less than two months and this happened in reality less than one month in, this wasn’t added in later. I mean, it’s a predictable headline, but, uhhhhh.

The part of the paper relevant to this ep is a small story barely above the fold about the Rindell scheme.

Omg, wait, there’s a shot of Maia with the paper and it is formatted differently. The headline is still the same, but I don’t know about the body of the story. So something definitely happened here.

Anyway, Maia’s not able to read the rest of the article because someone’s ready for her: Julius Cain, who is no longer at LG’s New York Office.

Julius informs Maia that they have 55 associates and 40 workstations, so you just sit down at whatever desk is free and can’t keep anything with you there. Oh man, I would hate that so much. They’re really small desks, too.

Maia has her first assignment already, too. She’s going to the SWSMU offices at 10. It’s a union they represent, and they have to do pro-bono work for them for appearances, essentially.

First days of work are difficult enough without unknown numbers threatening to cut your tits off. I feel terrible for Maia. (I love the little flashes of anger on Maia’s face as she reads/listens to these words.)

While Maia’s trying to harden herself against harassment, Diane is staring off into space in the parking lot as she gets more disappointing news: Lockhart/Deckler is withholding her capital contribution, so the only money she has for the buy-in at Reddick/Boseman is the money she’d get if she sold her department. And she’s not willing to do that. So maybe, her accountant suggests, her new partners will offer her a loan.

Diane looks at Barbara, who’s exiting her car at that exact moment. Diane knows exactly how that conversation would go.

Next, Lucca arrives at work. She exits the elevator, nods at a colleague (she’s been here for months), and finds Julius in her office. She’s being moved from her office to make room for Diane. Her new office is right near the men’s bathroom… and the bathroom door opens straight into the (glass, of course it’s glass, did you think for a minute they’d give that up?) wall of her office. This is going to be a recurring gag like Eli’s tiny office, isn’t it?

Lucca also has to go to the SWSMU. She complains that she did it last month, but Julius doesn’t let her out of it.

Adrian arrives next. He jokes around with the valet and his secretary, which gives me a very good sense of his personality. He throws his keys to the valet, and asks him how the college search is coming. He’s playful, but not in a way that’s disrespectful of others.

Next, he talks to his secretary about the case from 1x01. They’ve officially won. And, his secretary alerts him, Diane is already meeting with Barbara.

In Barbara’s office (which is the one I thought, in 1x01, belonged to Adrian, but in any case is still Will Gardner’s office), Barbara tells Diane she heard her speak at an ABA conference. “Oh, yes, on racial hiring,” Diane recalls. “That’s right,” Barbara says. She doesn’t elaborate, and Diane understands: “Oh. I hope I didn’t embarrass myself too much.” Barbara doesn’t reassure Diane (and why should she?): “Hmm. Not too much.” Diane laughs to move the conversation along, but they both know Barbara wasn’t joking.

Yeah. That’s definitely Will’s office. See the door to his private bathroom of Willicia sexytimes?

Adrian enters before things can get any tenser between Diane and Barbara. Adrian has a gift—a nice bottle of wine—for Diane. It’s from his own row of vines.

Barbara mentions that they’ll need Diane’s capital contribution by next week. Diane tries to spin the situation with the old firm, telling them she’d appreciate their patience. Adrian says it’s fine, because he’s dealt with David Lee, and tells her she needs to be in on a meeting at 11 with litigation financiers.

Diane exits, and Barbara asks Adrian, “And how patient are we to be?” “Let’s give her two weeks,” Adrian replies. Their dynamic reminds me a lot of season 1 Will and Diane. Definitely not the same, but the sense of partners who have very different ideas about how to approach situations and what they’re trying to accomplish.

Marissa is plugging in Diane’s computer when she gets to her office. “Are you from Lockhart/Deckler?” she asks, not recognizing Marissa (who’s under a desk). “Lee, Deckler…,” Marissa begins to recite. No more Lockhart! When Marissa pops up from under the desk, Diane recognizes her. Marissa wants to help as much as she can, because if she goes back to Lee/Deckler, she’ll just be sent out on another errand.

“When Alicia hired me, I was supposed to be involved in cases and everything, but it’s been all moving boxes since she left,” Marissa explains. How did I miss an Alicia reference the first time through!? I just deleted a whole thing about how I don’t understand how Marissa got a job at Lockhart/Deckler when she was always in Alicia’s universe and… this makes so much sense. Though, it also means that Alicia would’ve had to have hired Marissa in late season 7 of TGW, right? But we didn’t see that happen. Or does it mean that Alicia stuck around for a little bit even after 7x22? Whatever. The important thing is that it makes a lot of sense that Alicia hired Marissa.

Unpacking a box, Marissa holds up the Diane/HRC photo. “Still want this?” she asks dryly. “Definitely,” Diane replies. WHY WOULDN’T SHE, MARISSA?

Racist as fuck David Lee sent Diane a box of African masks to take to her new firm. A perfect moment for Barbara to walk in—she definitely sees the masks. Barbara mentions that Diane will need an assistant and candidates are coming in today. As soon as Barbara’s out of earshot, Marissa starts angling for the assistant job. She says she doesn’t have a resume, but wants to be hired for a day as a trial.

At the union, Lucca is sort of in charge. Everyone else is there to give 20 minute max consultations. Their purpose isn’t to find new business, it’s to refer people to other resources. Which is a nice way of saying that maybe they’ll help a few people, but mostly it’ll look good.

“You’re the ‘door close’ button in the elevator. Comforting, but not necessarily effective,” Julius explains. I like that analogy. (Also, of course it’s an analogy about elevators. How long ‘til TGF’s first elevator makeout sesh?)

Case stuff happens, and we get a sense of how this type of legal work plays out. Maia’s not sure how to accomplish what Julius instructed her to do. “I’m not really supposed to help…” she tells one woman. The woman then asks, “Then why are you here? If you can’t help, why are you here?” Maia doesn’t have an answer.

Lucca surveys the room and notices that Maia’s line is longer than anyone else’s. She glances at the other lawyers, and it’s obvious why Maia has the longest line: she’s the only white lawyer. “Oh, come on,” Lucca says to herself.

Lucca tries to convince a white man in Maia’s line (the line behind Maia isn’t entirely white, btw—I think this scene is about both people assuming that a white lawyer would be more knowledgeable or better just because she’s white AND racist white people being comfortable around other white people) to come with her instead. He isn’t interested. Lucca tells him she’s a third year associate and Maia just passed the bar, and he won’t budge. She moves on to the next man.  

The case of the week begins with Maia talking to a man who’s been accused of stealing product and had his wages garnished. He wants his wages to be garnished less, but Maia wonders why her wages are being garnished at all. He signed a confession.

Maia takes it to Lucca. It was a forced confession. There’s arbitration that afternoon, and Maia wants to go to help him out. Lucca tries to talk her down, but Maia asks again. Lucca, sensing that Maia could use a win/a distraction from her own problems (Lucca doesn’t know it, but Maia’s still getting those messages.)

Lucca also asks if Maia’s doing okay, and Maia says that for the first time in a while, yes. “It’s good when you can focus on someone else’s problem,” Lucca says. Maia smiles in agreement. “First place I’ve been I wasn’t recognized,” Maia comments.

The meeting with the litigation financers—two dudes who run cases through an algorithm, which is a thing so Kings-y it must actually exist (it does: http://www.newyorker.com/business/currency/what-litigation-finance-is-really-about) – is going on over at RBK. (Heh. I am reading that New Yorker article now, and guess what ad I was served? Yep. An ad for TGF.)

The RBK conference room is Diane’s LG office. Seriously, they didn’t even change out the window backdrops.

Marissa calls Diane out of the meeting to meet with Lenore, Maia’s mother. I think Diane’s office is one of the 27th floor offices, maybe Alicia’s old one. Those windows look really familiar.

Lenore is trying to get to Maia through Diane. Diane doesn’t want to do anything to help Lenore—doesn’t Lenore see how much she’s hurt Diane? Lenore insists it was all Jax. But Diane doesn’t believe that: she asked about the money for the house, and they told her to keep it in the fund! Yup. Not sure if I noted it last ep or not, but definitely thought it was fishy Henry was being so pushy about Diane not buying the Provence house…

Lenore says she’s innocent and wants to know why Diane’s treating her like she’s not. Uh, maybe for the reason she just gave you? Maybe because it was your responsibility to know if there was a scheme going on, even if it wasn’t yours?

Finally, Diane agrees to tell Maia that Lenore stopped by. Satisfied, Lenore begins to leave, then mentions that it would also be great if Diane could visit Henry in prison. Since Henry is Diane’s oldest friend (interesting that she’s friends with Henry more than Lenore—I want more backstory!), Lenore wants her to visit and maybe give legal advice. Diane considers.

Arbitration takes place in the mall where Client of the Week, Frank, works. 

Maia begins to make an argument, and no one else in the room takes it as seriously as she does. Then Lucca pops in as “an observer from the union.” More like “moral support for Maia.” (And Lucca might be thinking this could lead to bigger things.)

The arbiter decides against Frank, and Lucca provides Maia with another argument to make. She came prepared. (Lucca’s so good and so quick on her toes. I bet she’ll be moving up the ranks quickly. She deserves to.)

Diane does, in fact, decide to visit Henry (whom she calls Hank) in prison. It’s hard to see him in an orange jumpsuit.

They end up talking about the case. Henry also mentions they went to college together. But WHERE? “I’m telling you the truth,” Henry insists.

Henry explains that it’s all Jax’s fault and his lawyer won’t use that as a defense strategy. Henry wants Diane to represent him, and she says no—he needs someone objective. About time someone on this show realized that! What in the hell was Diane doing representing Peter Florrick in season 7?!?!?!?! On a case that involved her husband?!?! #StillBitter about how bad that trial arc was. It’s amazing I’m this bitter considering that I was never even invested in that arc!

Henry accepts that and asks about Maia. “She’s gonna blow us all away,” he says proudly. Diane wants Maia to stay away from her parents until the scandal gets sorted out, and Henry decides to mention that Lenore “doesn’t have years” because her breast cancer is back. This turns out not to be true, so I’m not sure who’s playing whom, but I don’t trust Maia’s parents. I especially don’t trust her mom, but I don’t think we’re supposed to.

Diane passes the information onto Maia, as Henry had to have known she would.

Meeting with the partners, Julius is furious that Lucca took on the COTW. Lucca makes the case for her actions, and Julius thinks it’s about her losing her office to a partner. That’s news to Diane. Lucca says it’s about a good case.

Meanwhile, Maia is doing her idea of working, which is calling Amy to ask a question that’s easily Googled. I mean ChumHummed. Amy even tells her to go look it up online when Maia asks for more information. I’m really not sure why Maia had to call Amy during the work day with a work question. I’m also not sure why this seems to have gotten under my skin.

Lucca brings Maia the bad news, but then reconsiders and tells her to go ahead anyway—on their own time. They’re going to attend a seminar on the method of questioning that was used to get their client to confess.

It’s total bullshit, as one would expect. Maia listens attentively, while Lucca doesn’t buy it for a second. I know why Maia’s tempted to believe in this—she wants to know if her parents are lying!—but I’m with Lucca on this one. She notes that since this method is about anxiety, not guilt/innocence, it’s an unreliable indicator of guilt. Who wouldn’t be anxious? Bingo. Maia wants to know if the same thing holds true if there’s no reason to be anxious (she’s not thinking about the case now). Lucca thinks people have tells but…

She doesn’t get to finish that thought, because she looks at the name tags of the fellow seminar attendees, and realizes they’re mostly middle managers at stores just like the one Frank works at. Now THERE’S a case.

“This is a massive class action,” she tells the partners the next day. Now, the partners are in favor of it and tell Lucca to go certify a class.

An aspect of TGF that I’m very excited about is the hierarchy at RBK. One thing that always strikes me as a smart structural choice when I rewatch season 1 of TGW is that Alicia and Cary feel like first year associates. There’s tension inherent in that, plus there’s the competition between them. They have less room for error, a lot to learn, and they have to take orders. As TGW goes on, Alicia takes on more responsibility at work and becomes more important to the firm, even becoming a partner. When she and Cary go out on their own, they both become name partners, and from then on, all the leads who are lawyers are of equal rank. The conflicts are different at that level—scheming and backstabbing instead of trying to navigate a workplace hierarchy. I have to wonder if losing the hierarchy was part of what led to the firm nonsense in the later seasons of TGW.

TGF is set up differently. Instead of having two first year associates and two name partners as the regulars, we have: an assistant, a first year associate, a third year associate, a junior partner, and two name partners. Each character has a unique position, and thus unique expectations/goals/responsibilities/concerns, and I’m hoping this structure organically translates into tensions—and then plots—for the characters.

Diane encourages Adrian and Barbara to keep Maia on the case now that it’s a big deal. Adrian agrees, because everyone hating her is a great way to mold a fighter.

In reception, three black women wait to interview for the assistant job. “There may not even be a job here, I just want to warn you,” Marissa tells them. Oh my God, Marissa. Do you even know how that came across?!?!?!? Do you know how rude and clueless and privileged you’re being?!  

Marissa senses that, if she wants to be Diane’s assistant, she’s going to need to help out in a big way. She asks Maia and Lucca what the case is, and isn’t she in luck? It’s about retail workers. And what was Marissa doing last year? Working at a mall, making friends with lots of retail workers. Marissa may be a little obnoxious, but she is resourceful (which doesn’t excuse the cluelessness/obnoxiousness). And not just resourceful: she’s also good at talking to people, persistent, and comfortable in situations most people would avoid.

The head of the union is mad about the class. Now they need to find a new financer, so back to the algorithm boys we go!

Is it typical to use the first person who signs up for a class action as the test case? And to move this quickly? I would think you’d want to independently vet the test case as carefully as possible before deciding?

Algorithm boys don’t want to go for it because they don’t like the judge assigned to the case. “Your algorithm’s not taking into account that I’m a fucking good lawyer,” Adrian responds. Otherwise, the algorithm likes the case, so Adrian says he’s going to get a new judge.

“We’re going to court. Fuck the union,” Adrian declares, walking into Diane’s office. He points at Maia and tells her she’s second chair.

They’re having trouble finding people for the class, and at the moment Maia and Diane tell Adrian, Marissa appears with a list of people who are on board. “And there are two more people here to be interviewed,” she says, knowing she just got herself the job. “Who was that?” Adrian asks. “My new assistant,” Diane decides.

In court, Adrian asks the judge to recuse himself. Why? Because he lost money in the Rindell fund, and Maia’s second chair.

The judge recuses himself, and now Abernathy is presiding. Fun bit of trivia: Abernathy’s first episode was W1x02. Now he’s in F1x02. His quirk in this episode is that he has to wear his prescription sunglasses.

Opposing counsel is Andrea Stevens, the woman who kept telling Lucca she loved her hair in TGW season 7.

Case stuff happens! It goes well for Lucca et al.

“Good to see you’re still at it,” Andrea tells Lucca after court. How condescending. Why wouldn’t Lucca still be at it?

“It’s, uh, Mia, right?” Andrea says to Maia, damn well knowing Maia’s name.

Andrea wants to talk to Lucca sometime. Lucca says they can talk now. Lucca assumes it’ll be a settlement offer, but Andrea just wants to know where Lucca gets her haircut. Andrea makes me so uncomfortable. She’s so fake.

Oh no, I just noticed that Maia’s phone says it’s March 9th. I’m kind of tempted to go back to the earlier scenes and see if the timeline matches, but… I’m good.

“It was just a scare,” Lenore tells Maia when they finally talk. Of course it was.

Maia tries to interrogate her mom. The shot gets tighter and tighter (on both Lenore and Maia) as they talk—Maia’s definitely trying to apply that interrogation method she learned about. But it’s inconclusive.

Later, Maia and Amy are in bed together. Amy plays with Maia’s hair as Maia talks about her conversation with her mom. “I don’t know if she’s lying or not,” Maia says. “About the cancer?” Amy wonders. “No, about the fund,” Maia clarifies.

“We were always the boring family. All my friends, their parents were divorcing or having affairs, and I used to lie about mom and dad fighting so that I wouldn’t seem so weird. And now… it’s like we’re paying for all those years of happiness,” Maia explains. I was just watching Robert King talk about this scene, and it’s interesting to me that he puts some of the blame on Maia for not sensing it earlier. Were they really happy, or was she just content to think they were? How much has her privilege allowed her to keep her eyes shut and not question the world around her?

Maia and Amy are great together. I can’t wait to learn more about Amy. She seems like she’s a bit older than Maia. How long have they been together? Who pays for that lovely apartment? When did they move in together?

Case stuff happens.

Maia’s so nervous at first in court. She speaks haltingly and quietly. Then, when she’s asked to speak up, she speaks too loudly. I feel you, Maia.

Barbara notices that Marissa is acting as Diane’s assistant. “Diane. You didn’t like any of the applicants?��� Barbara wonders. “It’s just that I know Marissa,” Diane explains. We, of course, understand why Marissa is a tempting pick for Diane: she’s familiar, reliable, and just saved their ass on this case. Those are good reasons to hire someone. But Marissa’s also white, probably unqualified for this job (did she even go to college?), and the daughter of a well-known campaign manager. It’s the same thing that happened with Maia last week, but now it’s looking like a pattern. Diane is the only white person at RBK, and she immediately begins to bring more white people over, just as Barbara suspected she would.

Andrea Stevens makes a settlement offer for Frank, but it’s only good if they drop the class. As Andrea leaves, Lucca calls after her. “I have an answer for you now,” she says. Playing Andrea’s game, she proceeds to hand her the number for her hair stylist.

The algorithm boys don’t want to take the settlement. This turns out to be a bad move, because… Frank has a history of stealing from employers.

“I hate losing,” Maia says after court. She’s also confused because she thought Frank was telling the truth. “Maybe he was. About the running shoes,” Diane theorizes. “You know people can lie and still be telling the truth. Nobody’s 100% of any one thing,” Diane continues. I like this advice more than her advice from last week.

“My mom lied about her cancer,” Maia confides in Diane. “It was a scare. It wasn’t real. She just wanted to see me.”

“She’s lonely,” Diane explains. “People get desperate when they’re lonely. You should go see her.”

Maia takes Diane’s advice, but maybe she shouldn’t have, because when she gets to her family home, she finds her mom in a nightgown (one of those nightgowns that look so much like lingerie I wonder if anyone actually wears them). Lenore suggests breakfast the next morning, and tries to rush Maia out. Maia asks whose car is parked outside, and Lenore lies. Then Jax—Maia’s uncle—walks in. Uh oh.

I’d be more invested in this cliffhanger if I ever cared about these ongoing arcs.  

[florrickandassociates]

TGW Thoughts: 7x22-- End

So. It’s over. TGW is over. And so, too, are my obnoxiously long and thorough (yet still, somehow, incomplete) recaps. I’ve been writing these, in some form or another, since the first night I watched TGW live (which was the night 3x15 aired). My posts were shorter at first-- just a list of things I wanted to discuss with a friend in a different timezone after she watched the episode. But then I started writing more, and more, and more, partially for my friend, but mostly for myself (anything as long as these recaps has to be self-indulgent!). And then, at the start of season six, I decided to share my thoughts with all of Tumblr... and, to my surprise, y’all started reading them. 

And for that, I want to say THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you for reading, for commenting, for messaging me, for talking to me, for sharing your ideas with me, for loving this show as much as I do, and especially for being awesome people and great friends. It’s been a pleasure getting to know all of you and exchanging messages with you (and if we’ve never talked, hey, there’s no time like the present), and I know that I’m going to miss the community of TGW fans every bit as much as I’m going to miss the show itself. 

And with that, here’s my final TGW Thoughts post...

The episode starts in chaos. Alicia, Eli, Peter, and Lucca are in a car, each of them absorbed in his or her own phone conversation. (Lucca’s working on the case, Peter and Eli are talking politics, and Alicia’s speaking with Grace.) Hey guys! Wear your seatbelts!

They’re all worried that the verdict came back too fast. As Kalinda informed us in the Pilot and Lucca reminds us here, quick verdicts are usually pro-prosecution.

Connor Fox, too, is convinced the jury’s reached a guilty verdict, so he takes the two year plea deal off the table. He wants four years now, which Alicia rejects on behalf of her husband/client. Fox attempts to remind Alicia how tough it’ll be on her family if Peter winds up with a ten year sentence. “You think you can play the emotional card on me? You think I’m gonna break down and cry? Look at me. Do I look like I’m breaking down?” Alicia says without flinching.

She rejects three years, and puts her own offer on the table: two years, an immediate surrender, and Connor gets to control the press cycle. He agrees.

Now that that’s been resolved, we jump inside the courtroom. Alicia may not admit to Connor, who is trying to manipulate her, that Peter being in prison for ten years would be tough on their family, but it’s true: Grace is talking to Peter, crying. “But dad, you have to fight this,” she protests. “I can’t risk being away from you until you’re 30,” Peter comforts her. “It’s two years,” she notes. “I’m gonna be at your graduation, in the front row. I promise,” Peter insists. Alicia watches.

“I can’t go to college now,” Grace states. “Grace. You will go. You have to make us proud. You have to make your mom forget this. Okay?” Peter says calmly. Grace nods hesitantly. (Is it me, or is she dressing more like early seasons Grace—layers and ruffles?)

“Now I gotta go comfort Eli,” Peter says, holding up remarkably well for someone who’s about to go to prison for two years.

He walks over to Eli, and pats him on the shoulder. “Thank you,” he says. “What for? I didn’t do anything,” Eli replies. “You stuck by me through the presidential. I made a mistake there with you, and I’m sorry for that,” Peter admits. They hug. Awwww! I’m shocked we even got this moment. Can you imagine the emotional resonance this would’ve had if the Peter/Eli drama had been explored in depth in any episode this year beyond the premiere?!  

Court is now in session. Alicia puts her arm around Grace. As Cuesta reads the charges against Peter, he’s handed a note. What a shock. They’re not going to wrap the case up at the top of the episode so they can make the plot even more convoluted? Truly surprising.

The jury has a question so Peter backs out of the plea. The question is about the murder itself, which, as Alicia explains to Grace, is a good thing for Peter: it means they’re not really thinking about Peter’s guilt because they’re too curious about the original crime.

Lucca ducks out of court to phone Sparky and get him to help.

I am not even going to bother with the case. I drove myself crazy trying to pick it apart in 7x21 and I don’t intend to piece it together again here, especially since we know the outcome and have as much resolution as we’re ever going to have on it.

Robert King’s directing is always quite exhilarating. He likes to keep the camera in motion, which, if nothing else, makes boring court scenes that are hogging up time seem more interesting than they really are.

Alicia’s surprised to hear that Jason’s still helping, but only momentarily: she moves on to thinking about strategy. There was a similar case during Alicia’s second year, a case for Sweeney. (They did a case for Sweeney while he was in jail and we didn’t see it?!)

(Alicia in glasses alert!)

Diane rushes off to find precedents for the case. Lucca stays behind a minute to tell Alicia she should thank Jason. “I will,” Alicia says disinterestedly, focused on her work. This annoys Lucca, because Alicia and Jason are TRUE LOVE FOREVER!!!! And all Lucca wants in the world is for them to LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER!!! Or something. (Why did you do this to Lucca, writers?) (I understand the sentiment coming from her, but the intensity, my goodness.)

“You should probably thank him now,” she repeats after closing the door. Taken aback by Lucca’s harsh tone, Alicia reiterates that she will thank him. “What’s going on?” she asks.

“Jason thinks that if Peter goes to prison, you’ll never divorce him,” Lucca explains. “What?” Alicia asks. “Jason just thinks…” Lucca tries to clarify. “No, I heard what you said. I… what does that even mean?” she wonders. “It means you don’t want to kick a man when he’s down,” Lucca explains. “Okay. And by man, are we meaning Jason?” Alicia asks, confused. “No, Peter. You tend to confuse responsibility and love,” Lucca offers. What a lot of insight she has for someone who’s been around Alicia all of seven months!

This line bothers me. I think we’re supposed to believe that this is true: Alicia will never leave Peter if he goes to prison, because she’ll see it as her responsibility to stay, and that she’ll sacrifice love for responsibility. She’ll be so afraid of hurting Peter more that she’ll call off the divorce. But I don’t believe this interpretation is accurate, for a number of reasons. First, I don’t think it would be a fear of kicking Peter when he’s down that would motivate Alicia to stay in that scenario. What I see happening is that Alicia would want to proceed with the divorce—Peter’s not going to be fooled by her calling it off at exactly the same time he gets a prison sentence—but she’d also visit Peter in prison, because she cares about him as a person. Slowly, talk of the divorce would fade. (This is closer to what Jason said last week: “She will slowly drift away from me [if Peter goes to jail].” Now, is that about responsibility, or about love? If the pull of Peter being in prison grows STRONGER over time, not weaker as Alicia puts prison visits into her weekly routine, that suggests to me that responsibility is not the determining factor in this scenario.)

Second, and more importantly, who decided that love and responsibility aren’t intertwined? Can you have—or, more pertinently, can Alicia have—love without responsibility? She views love as a commitment. If you’re Alicia, being responsible is how you show love. It’s what you do for the people you love. You show up for them. Who says responsibility is detached from love? Am I truly supposed to believe that, after watching how hard Alicia’s fought for her family, how fervently Alicia’s supported Peter’s political campaigns (and ideas), how much she genuinely cares about and understands Peter as a person, and how seamlessly she and Peter slip back into old habits (good and bad), this all boils down to Alicia feeling an unshakable sense of obligation to help Peter? Am I meant to go back to Alicia saying to Grace in 4x18, with tears in her eyes, “This isn’t about responsibility; this is about love,” and think, oh, right, that was just Alicia confusing love with responsibility, when all this time I thought Alicia was affirming to her daughter that things that look like responsibilities are really gestures of love? What is love, anyway? Passion? Fairytales?

That’s usually where I end up on questions like this. What is love? What is Lucca talking about? What is Alicia talking about? Jason? The writers? Is love the opposite of responsibility? Does it have to be? Are there different types of love? Does love sans responsibilities make you (Alicia) happy? Does she experience responsibilities as love? Can Alicia be happy—and I think this is a question more about the past than the present—if she decides not to be responsible? Whenever she’s tried that, it’s eaten her up inside. Why can’t she love Peter as a member of her family and be ~in love~ with someone else at the same time? Does she need to stay with Peter to love him? Does Alicia even believe in love?! Reducing responsibility and love to this dichotomy helps no one.

Sorry. That was a mostly unrelated tangent—and I should note that last week, I was basically convinced endgame was going to be something subversive, with Alicia standing by Peter and calling off the divorce because she wanted to, so I was all prepared to defend my responsibility-as-love position. I think why this line bugs me is that I understand what Lucca’s saying, but I don’t think confuse is the right word. What Lucca means is that Alicia prioritizes responsibility ahead of pursuing her own desires, and that holds her back. I would agree with that. It’s fair to say that Alicia takes on more responsibility than is asked of her and goes above and beyond without realizing she’s doing it. Part of that comes from a genuine desire to help, and part of that comes from fear of not doing enough. One of the lines in “Any Other World” (the song that plays as Alicia and Will kiss in the elevator in 2x23) is, “so I smiled and tried to mean it; to let myself let go.” That’s Alicia’s MO: she plasters on a smile, she tries to mean it, and she wants to let go and embrace new things. She’s just not so good at permitting herself to go through with that last part, both because she likes being tethered and because that’s all she knows.

(I love that line from “Any Other World” so I’m also going to point out that the full lyric is “I tried to live alone, but lonely is so lonely alone. So human as I am, I had to give up my defenses. So I smiled and tried to mean it; to let myself let go.” That seems to have resonance now as much as ever, no?)

ANYWAY. Alicia wants to know if Jason’s saying all this; Lucca says she added a few bits and urges Alicia to think about it. Who does she want to come home to?

So. I don’t mind this framing device. It’s the advice my high school health teacher gave us when someone asked her how we’ll know when we’re in love. It’s valid for Lucca to ask, and it’s a handy way to make Alicia consider her future and her desires. BUT. Alicia’s already decided to divorce Peter at this point, and she’s already declared that she wants to be with Jason. I would rather the finale deal with the ramifications of those earlier decisions than have Alicia work through them again. For example: there’s a lot of material in Alicia realizing her marriage is actually ending, and just as she’s rediscovering how well she and Peter communicate/work together and how their lives will always be connected because of the kids. And at the same time Alicia’s working through that, she’s also faced with a dilemma about lifestyle. Does she want to be alone, romantically, but stay in the city where her life is, or does she want to give it a go with Jason and see what it would be like if she tried to live the untethered life? In the finale, she should not be dealing with a choice between Peter and Jason, not when she already chose (and sure, she might start second-guessing herself, but I’m talking about where the show needs to place importance, not whether or not it’s plausible this could cross her mind). Lucca asks who she wants to come home to, but the question that she should be asking is: where is home?

(Not that LUCCA knows this, of course. I think she’s mostly in the dark about Jason’s plans to leave town. I’m just saying the show needed to push the issue of what type of life Alicia wants rather than just who she wants to share it with.)

Alicia hesitates for a moment after Lucca pitches that question, then says: “Lucca, it’s not up to me. Jason wants his freedom.” “Talk to him,” Lucca encourages. “What will that do?” Alicia wonders. It’s pretty clear they’re at an impasse. “Talk to him,” Lucca repeats. Okay, Lucca, but I don’t think Jason’s going to want to stay put, and this sounds like Alicia’s saying she doesn’t want to uproot her life every time Jason feels like it, soooooo… what’s talking going to do? There are no mixed signals here, and I don’t see a compromise.

At home, Alicia sits on her bed, researching legal precedents for Peter’s case. She’s listening to Ashbaugh’s “Bach Song” as she does this. I’m so happy we got to hear it on the show one last time.  

The Bach Song ends, and Regina Spektor’s “Better” begins to play. The change of song distracts Alicia, and she takes a break from studying. And, for the first time in season seven (!!), we get memory pops! (I didn’t know it was possible for me to think Iowa was more of a missed opportunity than I already thought it was, but, apparently, it is. More on that in a bit.)

Alicia imagines herself walking through her front door. It’s just another day. She’s wearing that gorgeous dress from 7x17. She puts her keys in their bowl, sets her bag down, and walks into the kitchen. When she reaches the kitchen, the camera pans to reveal Jason standing there, waiting, with two glasses of wine. He kisses her hello. Hmmm, could be nice.

She restarts the scenario—front door, keys, bag, kitchen. This time, it’s Peter greeting her. Same scenario (but a different kiss—Alicia and Jason’s kiss is light but sexy (fun! Fulfilling!); we don’t see Alicia and Peter’s kiss, just Peter leaning in and the back of Alicia’s head (routine. So routine she doesn’t even need to imagine it in full. It might even be a kiss on the cheek). Interesting that she thinks of Jason and then Peter.

Then the scenario restarts a third time. Door. Keys. Bag. Kitchen. But Will (whose face she can remember now, I guess, because REASONS!) is waiting with wine. Alicia didn’t expect him to pop up and jolts forward. So what was she trying to think about? I’m curious!

Alicia hops off of her bed and closes the door. (“You’re gettin’ sadder, sadder, sadder…” the song warns.) With the door closed, Alicia allows herself to fantasize. It’s Will’s passionate kiss she wants most. Jason’s nice to have around. Peter’s the norm. But Will… oh, it’s too good to be true.

“If I kiiiiiiissss you,” the song goes, and Alicia slips into fantasy. At “Will you feel anything at all?”, fantasy Alicia checks herself and pulls away from Fantasy Will: “My God.” That’s characteristic of Alicia: she fact-checks her fantasies. In reality, she’s more annoyed with herself than surprised. “Stupid,” she chastises herself, the way she did after the real kiss with Will in Red Team/Blue Team. (She said “Idiot” there, but same diff.)

(Sidenote: I’ve had “Better” on almost constant repeat for three days now. I should be sick of it. I am not.)

It doesn’t make sense to fantasize about a dead man. He’s not an option (and this is the part where I note for the millionth time that when Will was alive, he almost never visited Alicia’s apartment—she kept him out). Alicia closes her laptop and hurries out of the apartment.

She heads to the office to find some case files. No luck on the 27th. But maybe they’re on the destroyed 28th floor? Using her iPhone as a flashlight, Alicia finds the files (which say Stern, Lockhart & Gardner on the side—nice touch, props department! But wasn’t the firm Lockhart/Gardner at this time?) and sits down.

“I can’t read that. What’s that say?” Alicia says to herself. Will’s voice fills her in—it says U.S. v Nunez. And now Alicia remembers the conversation. “Oh! Of course. U.S. v Nunez. How could I forget?” memory pop Alicia jokes. That is not your season 2 hair, babe. “It’s the Saint Jude of precedents,” Will explains. “Lost causes,” Alicia gets the joke.

“Nothing’s ever over. Remember that—nothing,” Will says to her. He’s talking about cases that seem to be concluded, but it’s a good thing (for the audience, for Alicia) to keep in mind when thinking about endings. The ending of this episode seems like a sad one. But it’s not: nothing’s ever over.

Will then recites something from a class at Georgetown. Alicia’s surprised he remembered (apparently she remembered, too, since she remembers it well enough to put in Fantasy Will’s mouth). Will says hey, he was the one awake in that class. “I was awake,” Alicia insists, but Will says no—she was always “drunk, lolling around.” Excuse me? ALICIA showed up to CLASS DRUNK REPEATEDLY? “That’s so not true! And I’ve never lolled in my life,” she protests. But she can’t remember the professor’s name, and Will can. (No, Alicia was not drunk during class every day while she was in law school. Please. Apparently, Fantasy Will is Veronica in some ways.)

(I can see her showing up hungover to a boring class that met in the early morning after the night her friends usually partied, especially if it was a class where she knew she’d be fine on the midterm/final as long as she memorized the lecture notes.)

Alicia stares at Will a moment too long. “What?” he asks. “Nothing. It’s just really good to see you again,” Alicia explains, mixing fantasy and memory. “Again? Where was I?” Will jokes.

Alicia snaps back to reality and looks into Will’s empty office, now David Lee’s office.

“You wouldn’t like it here now. Things have gotten sad,” Alicia informs Will, fully embracing the fantasy. “Hmm. Things were pretty sad when I was here,” Alicia-as-Fantasy-Will reminds herself. “No, they were never sad,” Alicia argues. “Us hating each other?” he reminds her. “Did you really hate me?” Alicia wants to know. “Oh yeah,” Will says with a smile. Sigh.

She asks Fantasy Will for advice about life. He’s not really Will anymore. He’s just a reflection of Alicia. He talks with Will’s cadence, but Alicia’s more focused on working through her issues than on capturing Will accurately. Will tells her he was never very good at life; she insists he was. Maybe he’d say that, but it sounds more like Alicia’s working through this herself: why do I want to capture Will’s approach to life if he wasn’t great it? Oh, that’s right: it always looked so easy for him to do what he wanted, when he wanted. That’s what’s appealing. The effortlessness.

“Why didn’t I come to you?” Alicia questions herself. (Because Will was not a practical option. Because he met some of your needs but not the most important ones. Because he didn’t understand the things you valued. Because you were in a tough situation. Because you felt both loving and responsible towards your family, including Peter. Because you did go to him, and you felt that it wasn’t love. Because you did go to him, and you realized the happiness he gave you wasn’t sustainable. Because he was never the man you’re fantasizing him to be now, as much as you loved him.)

Again, Alicia reminds herself of the counterargument through Will: “What did you say? ‘It was romantic because it didn’t happen.’” Alicia smiles. Yes. This line originally referred to Georgetown Alicia/Will (and maybe that’s what Alicia’s asking him about here?), but it’s correct at any point in time for them. The idea of the romance, the idea of the fantasy—that’s what propelled Alicia and Will forward. It’s not all there was to their relationship, not at all. But it’s why the relationship came to be so important for both of them. It never was something, which means it could have been anything. Maybe if Alicia and Will had gotten together at Georgetown, they’d live in a fairytale castle (…or a nice house) together now! Maybe if Alicia hadn’t gone back up to the apartment with Peter in 119, they’d have made a plan. Maybe if Alicia had gotten that message, she and Will would’ve gotten together without it being an affair. Maybe if she’d just opened up to Will in season 3, all her fears would’ve melted away. She’d never have left the firm. Will never would’ve fought to keep Jeffrey Grant as a client. The trial would’ve gone differently; Will wouldn’t have died. Alicia would come home every night to a passionate kiss, and it would never get stale, no matter how many years they were together. That’s a lot of maybes, but why be rational when fantasy feels so nice?

“So you got a little bit of both. Life. Us together. And now, romance,” Will consoles her. This line is hard to parse. If it seems abrupt, it’s because Will’s replying to Alicia’s full line in 1x18 (“It was romantic because it didn’t happen. If it had happened, it would have just been… life.”), but he only says the “romantic because it didn’t happen” part here. So, she got the part that was just life: they got together, it happened, it ended. Life. And now she has romance: the fantasy that will last forever. It will always be romantic because it didn’t happen, and she got a glimpse into “life.”

Or maybe he means now, with Jason, she has a chance at romance. I like my interpretation better.

Back to reality. Alicia sits alone on the couch, and the camera zooms out to reveal—or, rather, to underline—her loneliness.

She steadies herself against a wall (bad idea! The 29th floor could come crashing down on you!) and walks away. The office turns into newsprint, and with that, we have our final title credit sequence ever. I am not sure I understand it. Why is the office in newsprint? And couldn’t we have gotten the real theme music one last time?

Alicia’s studying precedents when Jason sneaks up behind her and accidentally surprises her. Jason needs Alicia to talk to Cary. Alicia doesn’t think Cary would talk to her, but Jason thinks he would.

Diane is excited about court strategy! She got a real life lawyer to talk in court as an expert witness. The plan is to use his celebrity status to impress Cuesta so much Alicia and Jason have more time to prep.

The plan works.

Peter meets with a campaign donor to try to make sure their relationship is still solid. It’s not. The donor slips up and says something he shouldn’t: he refers to Alicia as a “path to the future.” That’s right! You remember Alicia’s miraculous rehabilitation campaign? It worked SO WELL that now Alicia is in a spot, a year after her dual humiliation, to run for office!

Eli’s plan is for Alicia to divorce Peter, look like she got away from the criminal, and then run for office. (As Alicia Florrick or Alicia Cavanaugh, I wonder. Alicia Cavanaugh Florrick?) I would say it would never work, but hey, Eli’s magical. He rehabilitated Alicia without doing anything.

(I’m convinced this is just placed her to suggest that Alicia has a future that’s hers for the taking so the ending doesn’t feel as sad once you think about it.)

“I didn’t know he was teaching,” Alicia remarks to Jason. That’s right: Cary’s found his new calling, and it’s teaching. I can’t say that’s what I would’ve expected for him, but I like it. There will be less fighting and less moral ambiguity there (though I hear the world of academia can be pretty cutthroat!), and Cary won’t have to deal with management issues or needy clients. I don’t know if I think he’ll stay a professor forever—he’s just a guest lecturer, according to Jason—but it’s a nice place for him to be as the series ends. Who would’ve thought, based on the Pilot, that Cary would be the one to remove himself from that crazy competitive world? I’m glad Cary gets a happy-ish ending.

“He looks like he’s been doing this his whole life,” Alicia observes. Awww. I love that Alicia’s proud of him. I hope they can stay friends.

Alicia tries to talk to Jason about their relationship, as Lucca told her to. “I don’t know. My head hurts every time I try to figure out what it is you want and what I want and how those things may coincide,” Jason replies. Sounds like that’s his answer—he doesn’t see a way this will work out.

Alicia tries to protest, but Jason continues: “No. Look, your husband needs you. I think sometimes you need to be needed. It keeps you from tipping over.” I don’t like the way this sounds, but he’s not wrong. Needing to be needed is another way of saying tethered, right? I don’t think Jason is right that Alicia needs to be needed by Peter, but yes, Alicia needs to have ties. That means she needs to put herself into positions where she can’t leave, that she needs to put down roots and take on responsibilities. It’s not as much of a one-way thing as it sounds here, but an Alicia with no obligations is hard to imagine.

There’ve been a lot of sequences over the years of Alicia suddenly finding free time/suddenly being freed from responsibilities, and they usually do lead to Alicia tipping over. Give Alicia a goal and structures and something to build on or someone to answer to (or something to answer to—a deadline will work, too) and she’ll jump into action. Give her a chunk of free time, and she gets bored and confused. She counts down the minutes until it’s an acceptable time to drink, mindlessly watches TV, gets restless, and mopes around. She’s more productive when she’s needed.

Anyway, class gets out and Jason and Alicia can’t have their Big Romantic Chat right now, so Alicia leans in close and whispers to him to wait for her. Ah, yes, because whispering into his ear is much more discreet than just saying, “Wait for me” out loud!

Cary doesn’t want to help at first. He suggests that Alicia and Jason talk to Matan instead. But Jason is insistent: the bullets must still be in the evidence room somewhere since it would trigger the metal detector to take them out; why did no one look after the mistrial?

Cary asks what the point would be. “The truth. You always talk about the truth,” Alicia prods him. Cary is convinced that the truth is that Peter caused the mistrial. Is that the truth? Does Cary know the truth? Do I care, at this point? I can answer one of these questions—the one about my level of caring—and the answer is no, I do not care. I see a lot of theories and very little proof of anything.

Alicia says she wants to know what happened whether or not Peter did it. Cary says a total search would be impractical, but the idea is planted in his mind. Jason also asks Cary for help with something else case related.

Diane is still stalling in court. It’s still working. Cuesta seems to be easily distracted. This is not the first time they’ve tried this strategy on him. (A similar ploy works in Hail Mary, too.)

Alicia arrives in court and is surprised to see Grace, because Grace is supposed to be “on her way to Berkeley.” Oh, come on, writers. I can’t even happily learn where Grace is going to college without needing to nitpick timeline? This episode takes place in March. We literally just heard that Grace hadn’t graduated from High School yet. Why would she be going off to college in March?!?!?!

Anyway, Gracie is going to Berkeley! I would’ve expected her to choose somewhere that doesn’t have a reputation for being extremely liberal, but I think she’ll succeed there. I can see her loving California, and it’s a big school. She’ll find her people.

Also, Berkeley is CJ Cregg’s alma mater, and this matters because… because it does.

I’d give the writers the benefit of the doubt that Grace was just going on an admitted students’ weekend to visit Berkeley, but Alicia drags Grace out of court and informs her she’s going to college; it’s not open for debate. And that’s when Grace says she’s already phoned the school and deferred admission. I don’t get it. Why would she do this before the trial is over? Why is this happening at all? Why doesn’t anyone on this writing staff understand college?

“You wouldn’t do it. I’m not gonna do it either,” Grace says of her plan to take a gap year. You know, Alicia, an eighteen year-old taking a gap year is not the end of the world. And I’m saying this thinking of Grace, too: wouldn’t it take a toll on Grace to start college while her father was in prison? Couldn’t that leave a kid fucked up and vulnerable and not in a good position to move to a new state? Grace frames it by saying she wants to support her dad, but I dunno, I think this is something for Alicia to give more consideration to.

I think, however, what I’m supposed to get out of this line is that Grace is observing and imitating Alicia’s behavior. I may not understand why this conflict has arisen now, but I get the gist of it. Grace takes Alicia’s example to heart, and that isn’t always a good thing.

Alicia tells Grace that she has to go to college, “this is about your future.” Grace responds that Alicia’s right—“and I get to decide my future.” (Both Florrick ladies are right. I wish this plot delved more into Alicia and Grace’s feelings, because it sorta just feels like a plot device that emerged out of nowhere to cause tension.

Oh hi there, Sutton Foster. Nice to see you on TGW for all of five seconds!

Court stuff happens. Cary slips in to see how things are going, and gets an idea: he’s going to find the missing bullets. He goes to Matan to convince him to help him find the truth.

Cary reminds Matan about how the cops used to talk about “pitting evidence.” Awwww, that’s what the case in the pilot hinged on!

Connor is now offering one year of jail time. Alicia rejects it, so Connor goes for the emotional manipulation strategy again. (Aka, the easiest way to piss Alicia off and ensure she will do everything in her power to destroy you while keeping a smile plastered on her face.) “You know, I met you some years ago. At the Equal Justice Conference in 2008. Do you remember?” he says. “No,” she replies.

“Your husband was giving a speech. This was before… everything. You were fun. We, uh, we talked about our kids. You, uh, you made a joke about the terrible twos and how they weren’t as bad as the freakin’ fours. That was a long time ago. Not many laughs now,” Connor reminisces. Alicia acknowledges the story. There’s no way Alicia said “freakin’.”

But the end of Connor’s story pisses Alicia off. “Really? I don’t make you laugh now? The wife of someone you’re prosecuting for corruption doesn’t amuse you?” she asks him, miffed that he is under the impression she’s there to entertain him. “Okay, thank you,” Connor replies, annoyed with the snark.

“Hey, here’s a thought. You give my husband one year probation, no jail time, and I’ll work up a demure smile for you,” Alicia bargains. “How’s this?” she adds, giving Connor a smile that says two things: (1) Look at me! I’m an innocent brainless woman! Teehee! (2) FUCK YOU.

Peter confronts Eli about moving the donors to Alicia. Eli explains that he’s just being smart: he wants to keep the money in the family rather than losing it to another candidate.

“If I’m so tainted, why am I not tainting her?” Peter wonders. “Because she will divorce you. And it will be seen as a move of independence,” Eli explains. So wait, do the donors already know she’s going to divorce?

Peter considers Eli’s explanation, then asks if Alicia knows. This is Eli we’re talking about so of fucking course Alicia doesn’t know.

Eli and Peter reach an understanding, albeit a tense one. And then Alicia phones to say they’ve found the bullets. Yay Cary! And Matan!

This is quite a big bet to make, Diane et al. Diane moves to have the bullets included in evidence for this case once they’re tested, and that’s… weird. Locke is likely guilty. The bullets could’ve come from Locke’s gun without Peter intentionally causing a mistrial. So if they admit the bullets and they’re from Locke’s gun, Peter looks guilty whether he is or isn’t guilty. And the chances that the bullets aren’t from Locke’s gun in the first place? I feel like that’s a pretty slim chance, given everything we’ve heard. So why fight to have the bullets included if they could easily just end up hurting?

And the results are back! Lawyer people: if Diane becomes aware of the location of the bullets, is she under any obligation to report them to the court? Does checking them out of the evidence locker to have them tested mean the court has to know about the bullets being found? Is there a legal reason they couldn’t have waited to see the test results and then not submitted the bullets into evidence if they didn’t help their case, or is that illegal?

The bullets definitely came from Locke’s gun, says Kurt. Alicia looks exhausted. “Florrick had reason to hide ‘em,” Kurt explains. Sure! But where’s the proof he actually DID hide them!? Also, this just doesn’t make any fucking sense: if Peter knew the bullets were from Locke’s gun in the first place, it would have been because of what Kurt said to him at the time, not because of what gun the bullets actually came from. So, if Kurt thinks Peter had reason to hide the bullets, THIS IS NOT AND CANNOT BE NEW INFORMATION. (Oh God, I’m nitpicking again.)

“It doesn’t mean that he’s guilty,” Diane explains to Alicia. “I don’t know if I care anymore,” Alicia says. Is she exhausted by this? Did this new evidence that changes LITERALLY NOTHING and proves LITERALLY NOTHING change her mind? Whatever. “He’s your client. That’s why you care,” Diane reminds Alicia.

Diane then lies to Cuesta (Uhhhhh???? Is this okay????) about the phone call not being the ballistics testing. Lucca doesn’t understand why Diane is suddenly hesitant, since she’s been in chambers with Cuesta this whole time, and passionately argues to get the bullets included. Whoopsie.

“We stand by our original contention,” Diane stumbles. “Which was…?” Cuesta asks. “What we originally said,” she repeats. There’s a line that sounds exactly like this in the BrainDead promo I keep seeing. (“You’re outnumbered.” “By who?” “By the people you are outnumbered by.”) (No but you guys I’m genuinely curious to see BrainDead.)

HEY LOOK IT’S A LONG SHOT OF ALICIA WALKING IN THE DOOR AND PUTTING HER KEYS IN THEIR BOWL AND PUTTING HER BAG DOWN BEFORE THE CAMERA PANS TO REVEAL… Peter! Remind you of anything?

He doesn’t have any wine, though. Alicia doesn’t look thrilled to see him. (Yes, perhaps because she’s already in the process of divorcing him.) (Or because she just got evidence that we’re meant to understand suggested his guilt.) (Or maybe she’s just disappointed that her fantasy involved wine, no matter the man, and do you see any wine?! NO!)

(I don’t know what to make of Peter being the reality option. A wake-up call that she doesn’t want the man she’s already divorcing? An acknowledgment that she can fantasize about whatever she wants, but of those three men, Peter’s the only one that’s going to be waiting for her in the kitchen at home?)

“Just so you know, I didn’t do it,” Peter tells Alicia. Hey, I believe him. “It doesn’t matter. The jury’s deliberating anyway,” Alicia responds. “It matters to me,” Peter says, because Alicia believing him and the jury believing him are two separate things.

“Should I take the year?” Peter asks. “I don’t know,” Alicia says. “I did eight months and that was hard. A whole year,” Peter reflects. Um, didn’t we have this conversation last week?

“Grace says she is going to drop out of college to visit you in prison,” Alicia mentions. I believe she said she was going to take a gap year, but whatever, drama, high stakes! “What?” Peter laughs. “I know. We’re talking,” Alicia explains. Heh. If you’re a Florrick, you go to college. Yet Zach and Grace are both considering putting their educations on hold.

And then court’s back in session, which means… gah.

Holly testifies for the prosecution, which makes Alicia convinced that Kurt has to testify for them. Diane says no, but Alicia’s insistent: these test results can’t go to the jury or it’ll be bad. (This I do see the logic behind: it doesn’t help their story if the bullets came from Locke’s gun. When I was nitpicking before, that was mostly because it was Kurt expressing surprise, and unless Kurt was trying to help Diane with trial strategy (or just serving as exposition fairy) then he’d have no reason to believe this changes anything.)

But it ends up being a moot point anyway: he’s testifying… and for the prosecution. (Or, at least, they called him to the stand. They could’ve subpoenaed him.)

Back at the LF offices, Diane and Alicia are fighting. Diane insists she had nothing to do with Kurt’s appearance, but Alicia doesn’t care: “He’s your husband, do you know what that looks like?!” “The jury didn’t hear it!” Diane shoots back. “But they will hear it! Cuesta believed him. He believed both of them!” Alicia shouts.

Lucca, who’s between her two bosses, wants to find another strategy (I’d love to hear more about this and why Lucca doesn’t bring it up again to Alicia later, btw). But Diane wants to try to get the evidence excluded (good luck) and Alicia wants to undercut Kurt’s testimony. After all, he’s reversed himself.

“No, he only reversed himself because I convinced him to testify in the first place,” Diane argues. But that doesn’t matter, does it? He still reversed himself. “So? We can still use it. We can still use the reversed testimony,” Alicia argues. “NO!” Diane thunders. Oh man. This is a tough dilemma. I would hate to be in the middle of it, because I don’t know who’s right. And I also don’t know what “right” is. Is “right” not betraying someone that took a risk for you, someone that you love? Or is “right” doing your job to the best of your ability?

“Because he’s your husband?” Alicia wonders after a moment of stunned silence. “No. Because he’s honest. He can’t be undercut,” Diane insists. Uh, Diane, you literally just said the only reason he reversed himself is that you convinced him to. He can… really easily be undercut. And, uh, when has the truth ever mattered before? Remember all those times Alicia went to Diane with the truth or with knowledge that changed everything, and Diane was just like, “well, our duty is to represent our clients…” and the truth didn’t matter because the firm mattered more? Because I definitely do.

And Alicia definitely does, too. She’s learned from them: “Diane. You have a client. My husband. You have a duty to zealously represent that client.” This isn’t to say that Alicia is right here: Alicia is also fighting harder than she would for any ordinary client. That she’s right about how Diane might act if it didn’t involve Kurt is irrelevant, on some level. It doesn’t matter who’s right or wrong, or if there’s a right or a wrong. Alicia knows that, right or wrong, this will hurt Diane. Try applying precedent the next time someone’s mad at you. Reading them a laundry list of sketchy things they’ve done is not going to change the fact that you hurt them. Acting like this is any other case is not going to remove the emotions. It’s not any other case.

“And I am, but to besmirch this witness would backfire on us. I am not saying this because he’s my husband. I am saying this because it is strategically a mistake,” Diane argues. I believe half of that. Maybe she believes it’s a strategic mistake. She probably does. But that doesn’t mean her emotions aren’t also a factor.

“I disagree,” Alicia counters. “Then have Peter fire me,” Diane suggests. (Really, that’s what Alicia should do. I don’t get why she doesn’t, except maybe optics. It does probably play better for the jury if it looks like Diane was trying to protect her husband over her client… that somehow makes Peter look like a victim…) (And that’s a shitty thing to do to Diane. And to Kurt.)

Alicia and Diane stare each other down, and then Diane leaves, slamming the door behind her. Alicia sits down at the table, shakes her head, and decides: “I need your help.” “With what?” Lucca asks. “Cross-examination,” Alicia says.

In court, Diane goes ahead with her strategy—no questions for Kurt. But Lucca jumps in (seriously though, I understand why Lucca would help Alicia, but it would be really nice to get a scene that spells out why Peter can’t just fire Diane and whether or not Lucca had any hesitations about doing this, especially given that she thought she had a better strategy).

Diane stares at her, alarmed. (Hey, Christine Baranski: THIS is your Emmy tape.)

As Lucca speaks, we don’t see her. Like last episode, it’s entirely about the other characters. Diane glares at Alicia, who makes eye contact with her and then remorselessly turns to watch what’s going on in court.

Then we get to the case stuff, so we see Lucca. Lucca’s argument: Kurt’s retired, so why was he doing a ballistics test? It was as a favor, right? And he checked his findings with Holly? Yes, and yes. Lucca finds something to be suspicious of there. Were they comparing their findings, or were they coordinating strategy? It’s not standard to compare results, is it? No. But, Kurt says, they had a differing opinion in 2012. (Wait, so, did Holly actually see the bullets in 2012? Last week she didn’t. This week she did. I HATE THIS CASE!)

Also looking bad for Kurt? That Holly’s the one who bought his business. Lucca uses the word “give”, not the word “purchase.” Then, Lucca takes it to another place entirely: she asks if Kurt’s had an affair with Holly.

And we get Diane’s reaction. She closes her eyes and sighs deeply. No one deserves to be hurt like this. Regardless of whether or not Kurt cheated, Diane doesn’t deserve this humiliation. Connor objects, Lucca argues for the relevance of this line of questioning, and Diane keeps her eyes closed.

The arguments go in Lucca’s favor, but that’s secondary: Diane is devastated. She looks down, and the camera locks in on her as Lucca, Connor, and Cuesta talk.

Diane looks up again as Lucca repeats the question. She’s fighting back tears.

The camera shows a long shot for a second, and we can see Lucca, but she’s still not the focus: the focus is Diane, blurry in the background, standing up and walking out of court. The focus racks and we see Diane, sharply. Then Kurt, powerless and silent.

Diane silently marches out. She doesn’t want to hear it.

(My headcanon is that Kurt slept with Holly before he was married to Diane and I refuse to accept that it’s possible he cheated.) (Unrealistic? Maybe. But until the writers contradict it directly and in canon, it’s what I’m going with. And it remains to be seen if this spinoff, if it happens, will be something I consider canon.)

Back in court, Alicia looks sad, but not conflicted. Grace stares straight ahead.

Well, I spoke too soon: Alicia is conflicted. She realizes the gravity of what she’s done. Outside of the court room, she tries to rationalize it to herself. “What is the point?” Will asks. “What?” she says in fantasy land, as real Alicia looks straight into the camera. “What is the point of all this?” he repeats. “To zealously represent our clients,” Alicia recites. “Right. Diane knows it better than anyone,” Will reassures her. Will would definitely say this. And this is definitely true. But it’s here, in Alicia’s mind, because she’s doubting it. Whenever Alicia did anything morally ambiguous in the past, she had a figure like Will or Diane telling her it was okay, it was her job. (I would love it if Alicia’s conscience took the form of Diane right here instead of Will, just saying. It’d be more powerful, I think, especially since Diane was always the one who was your friend right up until the point her own self-interest mattered more. Will was just never your friend or was loyal to you forever.) (“[Diane] didn’t approve of Alicia standing up to the panel, and yet, she’s supposed to care about people, the truth, morality, etc etc. I never understand Diane’s motivations– is her philosophy to help others whenever it wouldn’t hurt her, personally, to do so? I remember thinking Will had a lot of grey areas when I was watching season 1, but I think Diane may be more grey,“ I wrote in a message to a friend the night Blue Ribbon Panel aired back in season three.) (If nothing else, this proves that I’ve felt the same way about Diane for as long as I’ve been watching TGW.)  

Anyway, while I’m on this DIANE IS NOT A SAINT kick (which I think I’m feeling super strongly as a response to the way parts of fandom are exaggerating the problems with Alicia’s actions and putting Diane on a pedestal), I’d also like to argue that the closest we’ve come on this show to a betrayal like the one between Alicia and Diane in End is not Peter cheating on Alicia, but rather, Diane throwing Will under the bus in early season five. Peter cheating on Alicia is why Alicia knows exactly what type of situation she’s putting Diane in (although Diane won’t have the press in her face and Alicia’s more of the Childs than the Peter in this scenario), and why it’s so important as a contrast that Alicia goes from victim to someone who has enough power to victimize. But in terms of the betrayal itself, this is most like what Diane did to Will. It’s done with full knowledge of the consequences—Peter didn’t think he’d get caught; Diane and Alicia both knew their betrayals wouldn’t stay private (to her credit, Diane told Will immediately while Alicia surprised (because she had to?) Diane in court). It’s done against a friend and partner, and for one’s own self-interest. Diane wants the judgeship, and she decides that she values it more than she values her partnership with Will, so she trashes Will. Alicia wants Peter to be free (and that’s not exactly selfish, especially when you consider that she genuinely cares about Peter and has kids that would be devastated by Peter going to prison just because Alicia didn’t try her hardest to defend Peter), and she decides she values Peter’s freedom more than she values her partnership with Diane, so she instructs Lucca to discredit Kurt by hurting Diane.

To be clear, I’m not arguing that Diane can’t be a victim here because she’s made similar choices in the past. She absolutely can be a victim here, and she absolutely is a victim here. But Will in Alicia’s mind is right: if there’s anyone that knows Alicia’s dilemma, it’s Diane. I think that adds a cool tangle to this ending. You don’t have to be innocent to be a victim. The roles can shift.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Will and Alicia are still talking. “And the ethics of it?” Alicia wonders. “Hey, ethics change. We’re all adults here,” Will waves away the question.

“Things used to be simpler,” Alicia reflects. Ha, really? No, not really: “No. Things were never simple,” she reminds herself through the remembrance of Will. (NOTHING HERE IS PURE AND NOTHING HERE IS SIMPLE. SEASON ONE, EPISODE SEVEN, BITCHES.)

Alicia’s strategy works, so at least she didn’t blow up her relationship with Diane over nothing.

Connor has a new offer: one year probation, no jail time, and a resignation. “We could wait for a verdict,” Alicia jokes. Connor still insists that Peter is guilty (proof????) (I’ve yet to hear ANYTHING OTHER THAN MOTIVE.), and Alicia and Connor both know that Peter’s going to take this deal.

“What do you think?” Peter asks Alicia at the apartment. “It’s up to you,” Alicia says wisely, knowing this can’t be her call. “But what do you think?” Peter repeats, inviting her to share her opinion. “I would take it. It’s amazing we’ve come this far. This jury is unpredictable. You take the plea, you don’t spend one day in jail,” Alicia advises. “My career would be over,” Peter realizes. Yeah, but you’re at the point where you’re worrying about your career rather than life in jail!

“I think it’s over anyway, isn’t it?” Alicia reminds him. Peter realizes she’s right. Or, at least, I think that’s what that look is trying to convey.

As Peter leaves the apartment, Alicia asks him what he’s going to do. “I’m gonna take the deal,” he says. “But I need one more favor. I’ll announce tomorrow. Stand by my side.”

“Sure,” Alicia nods. One last time.

And now her apartment’s empty. There’s the living room, the office—all empty. (Where is Grace? Is she not still at home?)

“What do I do now?” Alicia wonders. She may still be in Chicago, but now she’s more untethered than she’s been in… well, decades.

Will emerges from her bedroom. “Go to him,” he suggests. “You’re done with Peter. Like a fever, it’s over.”

“Jason’s not you,” Alicia replies. Oh, GOOD, because the thing I really need to see Alicia reflect on at the end of her marriage is WHETHER OR NOT BEING WITH JASON CAN EVER FEEL LIKE BEING WITH WILL. TRULY, WE’RE ASKING THE IMPORTANT QUESTIONS HERE.

Look. I understand that Alicia’s still hung up on Will, especially since Will is dead. But to my mind, there’s an interesting dilemma here, and there’s a love triangle (square?) here, too. The interesting dilemma is what it’s like for Alicia to be untethered, for a combination of reasons that are both her choice (no Peter, severing ties with Diane) and beyond her control (Grace graduating). I’d love exploration of how Alicia craves something new immediately after ending something old. I may not like it as a viewer that Alicia wants to hop from relationship to relationship, but I can understand why she might be tempted to do that, as a character. Alicia likes being tethered; she will want to trust and trust and trust no matter how often she’s betrayed (or how often she ruins relationships with the people she trusts because she’s paranoid they’ll betray her, too). She doesn’t know how to live without responsibilities, so it makes sense she’d crave something or someone, especially if that something/someone is fun. And I’m not saying “Oh, Alicia can’t live without a man.” It’s not that simple. It’s that it’s an entirely new situation that she has to navigate on her own, after two decades of being used to having obligations. Anyone would struggle to figure out what to do next. It’s not about men or relationships, it’s about being at a turning point in your life. It’s the same feeling you might have when you start a new school (you can be anyone you want to be!) or when you graduate (hi!) or when you move to a new city or when your best friend moves away or when your plans get cancelled at the last minute.

And that’s why it irritates me so much that this interesting question becomes subsumed in this fucking love triangle from hell. Is that harsh? Yeah. But this is the end of the goddamn series. You want to do this Peter-or-Will-or-Jason madness? Don’t fucking do it in the series finale, after Alicia’s made her decisions. Even if those decisions are still malleable. GET IT OUT OF THE SERIES FINALE. Alicia’s story is not about the men in her life, so don’t fucking use it as a device. You want the viewers to believe it’s Alicia’s story, not the Willicia story? THEN GET RID OF THE FANSERVICE. You can’t have it both ways. This plot belonged in Iowa, which I’ve decided is my least favorite episode of the season because it’s a huge waste. That’s the episode where it was most relevant to debate whether or not Jason was a Will replacement, since Eli presents him in KSR as Alicia’s second chance (which would dovetail nicely into Alicia realizing that Jason isn’t Will, and that’s just fine). It’s also where Alicia and Peter are at a turning point, since Peter’s on the cusp of either winning and dragging Alicia even farther into the Good Wife image (and Alicia likes her privacy!) or losing and giving her a good opportunity to get out. I can imagine a pitch-perfect 7x11 where Alicia feels trapped on that campaign bus, and we get inside her mind. We see her angry enough to throw plates at Eli, but composed enough that she only takes it out on her suitcase. We see her staring out the window of the bus she’s trapped on all day, fondly remembering Will, contemplating against her wishes what it might be like to try again with Jason, sulking around, realizing she can’t sulk, remembering how much she cares about Peter but also realizing that no, she doesn’t want him at home at the end of the day. What a missed opportunity. (And the voicemail, and the breakdown, OY.)

ANYWAY. This scene. I hate that it goes into this “Jason’s not you” stuff. I don’t give a shit. Who said Jason had to be Will for Alicia to consider being with him? This doesn’t have to be epic love—it’s the friggin’ start of a relationship. Sure, Alicia will always love Will. But I already understood that, as a viewer. I got that the last several times the show worked through this conflict. And I got that, especially, in Mind’s Eye, when Alicia recognized that Will was just a fantasy now—he’d never talked like that, never comforted her like that, never understood her like that—before. It’s a point that recurs in Alicia’s thoughts, but it’s not one that needed to recur in the final minutes of the final episode of the series. This is what we get closure on? Of all the loose ends—we get closure on… a relationship that’s been quite literally dead for over two years, that we’ve gotten great closure on several times before? There’s no such thing as getting complete closure, so sure, I buy these thoughts, but my goodness, what a waste of time.

“Hmm. Very few people are me,” Will jokes, and Alicia smiles. Awww. “He’s a boy. He likes boy things,” Alicia worries. “You like boy things,” Will tells her. (Huh?) “No, I don’t, what makes you say that?” Alicia counters. “God, you have so little self-awareness,” the Will that Alicia’s created tells Alicia in Alicia’s mind. (Yeah, no self-awareness at all…)

“What if I’m unhappy with him?” Alicia wonders. “Blame me. Seriously,” Will says. OR JUST, LIKE, LEAVE, BECAUSE PEOPLE BREAK UP ALL THE TIME AND THIS IS NOT THE DILEMMA YOU’RE MAKING IT OUT TO BE PLEASE MAKE THIS TERRIBLE SEQUENCE STOP I LIKED ALL THE WILL STUFF UNTIL THIS MOMENT MAKE! IT! STOP!

“Do you want to live here alone?” Will asks Alicia, turning her around to take in the emptiness of the apartment. “Look at this place. It’ll drive you crazy.” BAD! Bad influence! On the one hand, I feel for Alicia here: she thinks she has nothing, and she has the option to have something. She doesn’t want to be alone—few people do. (Even when being alone would be best for someone, it’s easier said than done.) “You’re right,” Alicia realizes. (He is. It’ll drive her crazy. For a little while. And then she’ll remember that she loves to read, and she’ll pick up that hobby she dropped after college, and she’ll put herself back out there.)

“Then go to him. It’s not too late,” Will recommends. Again, we’re walking this very fine line. I don’t mind the idea of Alicia running to Jason out of fear of being alone—I think that’s very human. But that should be the point. It shouldn’t be caught up in a love triangle. If this is a decision about desperation and loneliness, I don’t need it to be Will telling Alicia all of this. I need a montage of Alicia doing that thing she does, where she flips through cable tv, opens the fridge door but takes nothing out, does laundry, cries. Then I need her to imagine these activities with Jason, super-duper happy. He’s the cure to her loneliness! She craves it! It’s within her reach! (I have a lot of proposals for how this could’ve gone. You could even add in a third sequence where everything’s super-duper happy with Jason, but whenever Alicia reaches out for something else that’s familiar and comfortable, it’s gone. She can have Jason or she can have the rest of her life, and she realizes she’s just not going to choose Jason over everything else. That’s my preferred resolution, anyway. It shows her desperation without allowing it to motivate her decisions.)

Alicia starts to run to Jason, but doubles back. “I’ll love you forever,” she cries to Will. They hug. “I’m okay with that,” Will replies. Yeah, no, delete. This is fanservice, and it feels like it. It also feels true and emotional, but ultimately unnecessary.

Ugh. Wow, I’m bitter about this. But this last scene is off-the-rails bad for me. The fanservice (which would be fine if it took place in an earlier episode, and if it weren’t so obviously fanservice) is only part of the problem. The main problem I have, if I didn’t articulate it clearly enough above, is that it doesn’t need to be here, in this episode, at this point in the show. There are more pressing issues, issues it makes very little sense to ignore.

Alicia rushes to the office to find Jason! Lucca says Jason’s “gone.” Alicia leaves him a voicemail, because of fucking course she does. “Hey, Jason, where are you? I need to talk. I… It’s over. Peter’s taking the plea, my daughter is going to school, and I… I need to see you. Call me back, please,” Alicia says with a smile, walking down a hallway at the office. The music from 1x23 is playing. Nice touch. (Again: Peter taking the plea and Grace going to school are not the things that were ever preventing Alicia and Jason from being together, so I find this really unsatisfactory. What made Alicia willing to uproot her entire life? Because it feels to me, based on the exploration given in this episode that prioritizes the love triangle above all else, like Alicia has to choose Jason so it can hurt when he’s not really at the press conference.)

Fade to black, and then… we’re in the beginning of 6x20! I kid, I kid. The parallel here, with Alicia and Peter holding hands before a press conference, is obviously to Pilot, not to The Deconstruction. (Which, as I said in an earlier recap, was almost titled The End and hits almost the exact same beats for Alicia as End.) Eh, what the hell, I’ll put this rant here, though I think I phrased it well in my 7x19 recap. This whole arc, which leads up to a parallel to the pilot and Alicia being taken down a peg, is literally the end of season six. In season six, it’s more the-world-conspires-against-Alicia, but… not really? 6x20 is a worse episode than 7x22, mostly because 6x20 hinges on a misunderstanding instead of character motivations, and that’s the fault of shoddy development of Alicia/Diane/Cary’s relationship and partnership throughout season six. But it still hits the same emotional beats. There’s a scandal. There’s a resignation. Peter is the only one standing by Alicia, and they’re hardly on good terms. Alicia can’t go back to the firm. And 6x20 ends with Alicia doubling over in physical pain after reading Kalinda’s letter.

This is the last bullet point of my 6x20 recap: “Alicia’s had it all figured out this year, and then she’s had nothing figured out. She’s more self-assured than she’s ever been, more ambitious and goal oriented, and yet she’s still been spinning aimlessly. What she wants is an abstract concept, and she’s prioritized winning and herself over everything and everyone—family, friends, ethics, the truth. And what does that leave her with when she loses? A lot of regret, a lot of burnt bridges, the same problems she had before, fatigue, moral dilemmas, and lots and lots of tears.”

Season seven doesn’t have that arc. In fact, it largely hits the reset button on the arc that already happened so it can wind up back in the same place and make the same points more pointedly. Alicia’s self-sufficient firm (which the writers, at first, scrap completely so they can do a 4 episode bond court subplot) has to collapse so she can go back to LAL so the conflicts can play out; Alicia has to stay with Peter so the final arc can be about his trial; everything Alicia learned from her run for SA (AND everything her run for SA did to her image; acting like the rehabilitation campaign just happened and not concentrating on it at all is probably the surest sign that we’re just erasing season six because it doesn’t work to end the series like this if you already made the same points!) must be swept under the rug. But look at what I wrote above: I mention Alicia putting herself first. I mention Alicia burning bridges. I mention Alicia being left in pain, with no support system. That’s exactly what this ending underlines: Alicia puts herself first, and ends up alone because of her choices, and it causes her physical pain.

(6x20, of course, gives way to 6x21, where Alicia mopes around and then quickly gets back up on her feet and sets realistic goals, which she’s working her way towards by 6x22.)

I don’t mind that 7x22 is repetitive, because I like the points that it repeats, and I think it makes its points more clearly than did 6x20. But I have a big problem with the work s7 did to erase what was a great arc for Alicia in season 6 so they could basically do it over again. The payoff is good in 7x22, but I think less of season seven as a whole knowing that it was building towards something that already happened.

This sequence is shot for shot like the Pilot (well, without the TV monitors), full circle, blah blah. It’s a thematic ending to a show that doesn’t usually go for the thematic plots. And it’s fine, because this is a good way to make the ending feel final without betraying the tone of the show (no flashforwards or happily ever afters here!), but it’s… I mean, the point is pretty straightforward. Alicia’s back to where she was, only she’s changed. (SERIOUSLY SHOW ARE YOU FORGETTING YOU ALREADY DID THE SHOT FOR SHOT THING IN 6x20??? I REALLY WANNA KNOW.)

Alicia doesn’t look distracted or worried this time. She just has her poker face on, and she maintains it well.

She looks to the sidelines—there’s Eli, smiling. (Alicia’s not alone! She has Eli to try to convince her to run for office, and maybe, since we’re ignoring the entirety of season six, she’ll go for it!)

Then she spies Jason (or the approximate shape of Jason) waiting in the hallway. OMG! HER SHOT AT LOVE! NOW OR NEVER!!!

Peter reaches for Alicia’s hand at the end of his speech. In the Pilot, he reached for her hand and grabbed it; her hand was already hovering near his because she wanted to remove the lint from his sleeve. Here, she’s done keeping up appearances the second it stops being absolutely necessary. She removes her hand and runs down the hallway after “Jason.” Joy.

(Another alternate scenario I think could’ve worked better: Alicia tells Jason she would like to be with him, but she can’t give up her lifestyle to live a nomadic life. Jason says okay, but in that case, he’s just going to have to leave, because he can’t give up his nomadic lifestyle to live in Alicia’s world. They end things there. Then Alicia imagines he’s at the press conference, and thinks she’s going to get her happy ending: he showed up! He changed his mind! They’ll be together and it’ll be on her terms! Yay! But no—it wasn’t him. You get the gut punch and you don’t get the triangle or the lack of exploration of Alicia’s life beyond romance!)

(Also, this framing again suggests Peter-or-Jason, and I dislike it for that. I get why it’s done here, but in combination with the rest of the episode, AAAARGH.) 

Alicia walks down the hallway hurriedly, calling after Jason. It’s not him—of course it’s not. (Maybe he returns after the finale ends. I doubt it. But this ending is as sad as you make it, since it’s not definitive.) Peter calls after Alicia; she tunes him out. (Maybe she finds her way back to Peter after the finale ends. I doubt that, too. But somehow, I doubt it less than Jason returning. Peter and Alicia end the finale in similar spots: dealing with a 20+ year relationship coming to a close, a major change of status/career, and kids leaving home. They could be the only ones who understand each other, and they’re going to be seeing a lot of each other in these coming weeks as they work out details, sign divorce papers, and attend Grace’s graduation. Anything’s possible.)

After realizing her mistake, Alicia heads back to where everyone’s waiting. Diane appears before her and stares her down. “Diane?” Alicia asks with concern. Diane raises her palm and slaps Alicia across the face. “If you never say your name out loud to anyone, they can never, ever call you by it,” Regina Spektor sings (because “Better” is playing again). (I love this line. If you don’t open yourself up, you’ll never be vulnerable. But… Alicia says her name out loud. She tries to let herself let go (yeah, I’m mixing my song references, deal with it). As closed off as she can be, she strives to connect. She builds relationships. And then she burns them to the ground. She can be slapped by Diane and have it hurt like this because she let Diane in—she let Diane know her name, to use the song’s terms—and then betrayed her.

Does Alicia deserve to be slapped? Yes, and no. I don’t advocate physical violence, first of all. But beyond that, Alicia definitely deserves Diane’s anger for what she did. She had a choice, and she chose to throw her business partner under the bus for her own self-interest and for someone else. Whether or not Alicia made the right call in doing that, Diane has every right to be angry, and what Alicia did was hurtful. On the other hand, Alicia doesn’t deserve to be slapped as, like, some sort of karma for being a supermegabitch to the amazing Diane. I hope I don’t have to explain why that is.

On the symbolism of the slap: it is what it is. It’s a way of demonstrating how much Alicia’s changed from the start of the series to the end of the series. It gives the show a sense of finality. It serves its purpose, and it serves it well. I know the Kings are discussing Alicia becoming Peter or whatever, but I don’t think that comparison does anyone any favors (least of all the Kings themselves!). It’s easy enough to say, but what’s the use of encouraging people to equate Alicia’s actions (to protect her family, to protect herself) with Peter’s actions (to experience sexual pleasure)? There really is none. The better, in my view, thing to note here is that in the Pilot, Alicia was in a position where she couldn’t really victimize anyone. She could slap Peter and still be the victim. Now, she’s in a position where she has, and (ab)uses power.

I’d say this also illustrates how much Alicia’s changed and how comfortable she is with moral ambiguity, but I think if given the chance, Pilot Alicia would’ve done the same exact thing to a friend (if she had one) to protect her family. That’s always been more important than anything else to her, and you can draw a straight line through (among other episodes) 101 (the fine print on your employment contract line), 314 (your problem was that you did things that were wrong against your family), 512 (protect Zach at all costs), and 722 to prove it. What matters is that Alicia still feels this way and that Alicia feels it to such an extreme that she’ll let it ruin (?) her relationship with Diane.

(I really wanna rewatch 105, Crash, and then reflect some more on this. Alicia’s faced with the same dilemma in that episode—does she reveal an affair to help her client?--- and everyone, including Grace, encourages her to destroy a woman’s life by revealing that she cheated. And so she does, apologetically. Afterwards, she washes her hands, symbolically cleansing herself of her misdeed.)

(Maybe that’s the difference: Alicia’s not apologetic about this stuff anymore. Maybe in her mind she is, but she used to run to Will or Diane—the actual Will and Diane, not fantasies—with her problems. She needed to be told by someone other than herself that she was making the right call. Now, she may still think about it and wonder if she’s made the right call, but she doesn’t need to check with any authority figures.)

Alicia whimpers and holds her face as Diane walks off (possibly forever—I can’t see Alicia and Diane’s partnership bouncing back from this, especially considering that Alicia doesn’t even like that firm and had spent three years prior to this moment trying to run away from it!) It’s not lost on her that she’s been here before, and that she used to be the one delivering the slap.

She composes herself, reflects for a moment, and then looks straight ahead. (My goodness, Julianna’s acting here is simply flawless.) She’s sad, but this won’t get the best of her.

Just as she did in the pilot, she adjusts her jacket. (It reminds me of her words to Jennifer, the client, in the pilot: Put on makeup, for yourself…) Some things change, and some things stay the same. Alicia was resilient then, and she’s resilient now. She’ll reevaluate her life—she did after she slapped Peter, and I’m hopeful she’ll do the same now—but she’ll bounce back.

She confidently begins to walk down the hallway. Elevators get a lot of play as TGW’s signature space, but I think a convincing argument could be made (maybe I’ll even write one up some day) about the role of hallways in TGW. Both elevators and hallways are similar in that they’re spaces of transition, but elevators have a dimension that hallways don’t: you’re stationary while you’re in an elevator, and you’re boxed in (so you’re either alone with your thoughts or stuck with someone else). Hallways work differently. You have to get yourself from point A to point B. The ends are open. You choose your pace.

And hallways, on this show, give characters—almost always Alicia, though we’ve gotten one or two for other characters—time to compose themselves, time to morph into something new, step by step. Alicia walks down a hallway after finding out that Peter slept with Kalinda; she’s in tears but has to keep moving. The same thing happens when she breaks up with Will: she cries, but she has to keep on moving. Then, as the series goes on, she’s not crying: she uses hallways to compose herself. When Peter’s elected governor, she realizes she wants to double down on her choice and go into business with Cary. She starts out shaky, walking down that hotel hallway where she once cried, but by the end of her walk, she’s confident.

That’s the case here, too. Yes, she was just slapped. Yes, her future’s completely uncertain and isn’t looking great. Yes, she’s alone (and part of that’s by choice, part of that’s by happenstance). But no, this isn’t a sad ending. She is going to walk down this hallway, and she is going to use that walk to pull herself together (as always), and she is going to walk out into a world of possibilities, and no one is going to know her pain unless she tells them about it. She is going to be fine.

This is an optimistic ending for Alicia, I think. It’s not relentlessly dark—Alicia was never a superhero. (She warned us about that.) She’s not left without options: she can do anything she wants from here. It’s the closest thing to happily ever after I could ask for. The show doubles down on the idea that Alicia’s growth hasn’t all been positive and that she’s just as (if not more!) capable as anyone of doing bad things and inflicting pain. But instead of punishing her for that and leaving her in tears, the show lets her show signs of rebuilding. She’s not “good,” but of course she’s not: the title has been ironic from day one. She’s also not “bad.” She’s just human, someone who makes difficult decisions, deals with the consequences, and then picks up and moves on to the future. (And I’d like to believe that this slap makes Alicia reevaluate her priorities. She can avoid being in this situation again.)

After all, this final scene mirrors the first scene. Alicia’s at her lowest point when we meet her, and look where she goes from there: she gets a job at a great firm. She keeps that job. She learns how to be competitive and fiery. She rediscovers her sexuality. She becomes a partner at her firm; she makes new ties. She starts her own firm! She runs for, wins, and then loses, an election! Her husband, who’s headed to jail in that first scene, becomes the governor. The precedent for this moment (without even taking into consideration how much stronger Alicia’s become over the last seven years; without taking into consideration her reputation or her skills and credentials!) is that Alicia will become wildly successful. (And then that she’ll end up back in this hallway, but she can take steps to ensure that part doesn’t repeat itself.) That’s reason enough for me to hope for her future.

But there is one substantial difference between the Pilot and End, and it’s a filmic one. In Pilot, when Alicia turns the corner, the camera follows her until she stops to collect herself before, presumably, facing the press. In End, however, Alicia walks past the camera. The last shot of the series isn’t Alicia, as I always assumed it would be. It’s an empty hallway. The camera doesn’t move; we as viewers stay in the hallway while Alicia moves on. Seven years ago in that hallway, Alicia became our protagonist and so the camera followed her. But now, our time watching Alicia Florrick’s life has come to a close. Now, as she walks towards her future, we stay in the hallway. She’ll keep walking; we’re just leaving her here.

[florrickandassociates]

TGW Thoughts: 7x21-- Verdict

Thoughts on 7x21 under the cut!

Welcome to the penultimate episode of the series, everyone!

The opening arguments at Peter’s trial have begun. The courtroom is packed. Alicia sits and watches. While she looks attentive, she’s really distracted: AUSA Fox’s words are too quiet to register (with her, and by extension, with the audience), and she’s mostly watching the back of Peter’s head.

Cut to a shot where the full courtroom is visible. Now we’re not in Alicia’s mind, so we can hear Fox’s words. He refers to Eli and then Alicia as Peter’s “enablers.” Liar. It’s a fact that neither Eli nor Alicia had any knowledge of this alleged crime before Fox brought it to their attention.

But Fox’s point is to discredit Alicia’s support so the jury won’t think better of Peter for having a supportive wife. “Now, Mrs. Florrick will be sitting behind her husband every day in court. In this way, the defense wants you to think warmly of Governor Florrick. Huh, if his wife stands beside him, he can’t be that bad. Well, I want you to resist that temptation, and I will give you a good reason,” Fox starts. Is it because they have an open marriage? Is it because of Alicia’s sex scandal with Will? Or Peter’s with Ramona? Or the fact that they don’t live together? Or that Alicia’s giving Jason handjobs and kisses in public? Or that they’ve already hired a divorce attorney? I can’t possibly think of a reason. But Fox goes with this: “Alicia Florrick is part of a criminal conspiracy…” Oh. OK! So Connor’s argument about Peter is that he believes Peter is guilty, therefore Peter must be guilty and everyone else must be in on it. Right. It’s a criminal conspiracy. That’s the only reason a wife might support her husband in a time of need. “For better or for worse”? No one actually means those words when they say them, don’t kid yourself!

Diane objects because Connor is calling Alicia a criminal. I object, too. And if I were on that jury, I would be very suspicious of Connor. Of course it’s a game of optics. But playing that game isn’t something you do when you’re guilty: it’s something you do when you’re trying to win. (Also, as a viewer, I know Alicia would be there no matter if she was asked to show up or not.)

“What is cynical, sir, is to point to a wife who has stood by her husband for years. And if she were not here, you would point to that as suspicious,” Diane argues. Exactly.

Now Fox wants the judge to get involved, and it turns out the judge is… Cuesta. I know the writers wanted the most Peter-hating judge, and wanted the Pilot reference (Cuesta is the judge on the show’s very first case), and Diane already argued in front of Cuesta on Cary’s case (remember how that happened?), but come on. Diane and Alicia have represented Cuesta (3x21). He should have to recuse himself, shouldn’t he?

Cuesta isn’t having the crosstalk Diane and Fox keep creating, so he creates a system for discouraging them from interrupting. Whichever one gets the most hashmarks by the end of the day will be fined $10,000. And you get a hashmark for causing crosstalk, or for annoying Cuesta.  

“He hates me. He has for years,” Peter whispers to Diane. Yes, Peter, we know. You said the same thing in the Pilot!

Bam! This trial is moving fast! Now there’s a witness on the stand: Lloyd Garber, the father of Richard Locke. Locke, you’ll recall, is the kid for whom Peter’s being accused of tipping the scales by causing a mistrial. Peter did this as a favor to Garber (a major campaign contributor), as the story goes.

Garber recaps the case: his son was accused of shooting his girlfriend, Patty. And after he—Garber—heard about it, he went to see Peter, the SA. Garber testifies that he told Peter that he didn’t want his son to go to jail, even though the evidence was against him. Peter’s response? “Lloyd, you know how much I count on your support. You have nothing to worry about.”

Alicia’s phone buzzes as he’s testifying—a text from Jason asking how the trial is going. She’s about to respond (she starts typing “No” and Alicia please turn off predictive type!!) but then realizes the jury is watching and corrects her behavior.

Garber believed these words from Peter to mean “exactly what it sounded like” (ah, very clear!) and explains that there was a mistrial because some bullets went missing. Dun dun dun.

Meanwhile at LG, Lucca and Jason are waiting for an update from Alicia. “Did you piss her off?” Lucca wants to know. Jason stares at her. “What? Is that so unlike you?” Lucca asks. “She’s in Mrs. Florrick mode for the trial, that’s all,” Jason explains.

“So you think he did it?” Lucca wonders. “I don’t know,” Jason says. “I think Alicia thinks he didn’t. But if he goes to prison, that wouldn’t be bad for you,” Lucca notes. Oh, Lucca. I love you. But I don’t love this so much. Lucca’s used in this episode mostly to push Jason towards Alicia (which is never a good use of a character), and this line feels a bit callous. Peter going to jail changes everything. Unless Lucca believes Peter’s guilty, rooting for her friend’s husband (and the father of two) to go to jail just so two of her friends can be in luuuuuvvvvvv seems strange.

“Lucca…” Jason warns. “What?” Lucca shoots back. “Can we give it a rest?” Jason asks. I’m with Jason on this.

At this point, two men walk into the conference room, ignoring Jason and Lucca, and begin hammering away at a wall. Good God, I hope this is not how construction crews work in real life.

“Do you want us to leave?” Lucca asks them. They don’t care. “More expansions?” Lucca asks Jason. “It looks like it,” Jason replies.

In court, Peter’s whispering to his advisors and lawyers. “I never said that. Didn’t happen,” he insists. “Connor knows you won’t put Peter on the stand, so there’s no way to rebut,” Eli explains. Alicia checks her phone. Now Lucca wants an update. Is there no news coverage of this trial?

Diane advises Alicia and Peter to “hold hands, be warm towards each other, you’re being watched. The jury wants to see you close.”

Diane pokes holes in Garber’s testimony. If the conversation was about the evidence, since Garber said the evidence was “against” his son, then couldn’t “you have nothing to worry about” simply be Peter’s comment on the evidence, not Peter promising a quid pro quo? (REASONABLE DOUBT!) Garber can’t answer.

Diane notes that Garber’s looking at Fox for the answer. Cuesta sustains Fox’s objection, but says that it did look like Garber was looking at Fox. (Reasonable doubt…)

“It wasn’t the commiseration of a friend, and you know it, Peter,” Garber says. I am just overwhelmed by how convincing of an argument this is! (It could easily be a suggestion of a quid pro quo without a quid pro quo taking place, too, kind of like “I plan to decide in the next 48 hours…”)

Diane reprimands him for talking to Peter, who can’t talk back, and tells him to “enjoy his deal with the AUSA.” Diane gets a hashmark for that, but Connor ruins his advantage by complaining that he has a hashmark now, too. Now Connor gets another one. Tee-hee.

(Is it obvious which side I’m on here?)

Connor meets with Alicia to offer her a deal for Peter: eight years. Alicia rejects it. She gets up to leave.

“Your husband did it, Mrs. Florrick,” Connor asserts. “Then prove it,” Alicia says. “Seriously. I’ve defended enough people to know how shallow those words are. I don’t care what you believe. I care what you can prove. So prove it,” she continues. I love you, Alicia Florrick.

“I have a surprise witness, Mrs. Florrick,” Connor calls after her as she leaves. Alicia gives that statement the appropriate response: an eyeroll. I don’t like it when TGW introduces these villain characters.

Lucca and Jason are still working in the conference room that’s being destroyed. Alicia phones Jason. “I’m being made into the evil woman here,” she jokes before asking Jason to figure out who the surprise witness is.

“How are you doing?” Jason asks after agreeing to look into it. “Me? I don’t know. I’m exhausted,” Alicia says. She doesn’t get a chance to elaborate before she hears construction noises. She asks what they are. Jason explains that the conference room wall is mostly down, thinking Alicia would understand what this means. Alicia freaks out and phones Diane.

Diane has a lunch meeting with a client (whom we saw in court earlier and who is, I think, there later, which makes me wonder if there were scenes shuffled around here)

LOCKHART/FLORRICK IS A PURE MERITOCRACY, DIANE SAYS. Alright, I need to take a break from writing this. I’m laughing too hard to continue. (If there’s one thing The Debate accomplished, it was turning the phrase “pure meritocracy” into an unintentional punchline.)

It’s also a pure meritocracy where the women decide, which sounds more to me like affirmative action than pure meritocracy, but okay.

“Call now! Emergency!” Alicia has texted Diane. Lots of texting in this episode.

It’s Monday, March 21st in TGW time, if you were curious.

Diane excuses herself from the meeting to talk to Alicia. Alicia’s angry: she thinks Diane’s expanding the firm without her approval. Diane, also clueless about the demolition, doesn’t know what Alicia’s talking about and says yes, they’re expanding: she’s meeting with potential clients all week.

Once Alicia and Diane get on the same page, they rush to the offices. The elevator doors open on the 28th and they gasp in unison at the destruction. They arrive just in time to see the LOCKHART, AGOS & LEE sign fall to the ground. Well. I guess that sign needed to come down anyway.

“Where is David?! How could he let this happen!?” Diane panics, storming through the hallways.

Where is David? In his office, blasting Gilbert & Sullivan, blissfully unaware that his firm is being destroyed.

“They had the wrong floor,” Jason explains. The law firm on the 18th is expanding. And construction workers don’t sign in with anyone? Or notice that the blueprints look different? They just start breaking shit? Ok!!!!!!! OK!!!!!!!!! And the elevator sends people to floor six instead of floor nine!!!!!

Lucca says she called the insurance and they’re covered, but Diane’s still worried: what will this look like to clients? Alicia, more concerned with the trial, wants to get back to court ASAP. Diane, who built this firm, walks slowly through the empty former space of the conference room. She sees a hole in the ceiling and gets an idea.

(So, part of me is really sad to see the set destroyed like this, because I know they’re going to have to strike the sets for real and this is a sad little meta commentary. A lot of me is like, FUCK YEAH, DESTROY THIS GODDAMN OFFICE SET! WHY IS IT EVEN STILL A THING?!)

(To clarify: the move back to these office happened at the Point of No Return for season 6. When the tensions at Florrick/Agos (and Lockhart) should’ve reached a head, they turned into a subplot about offices. After the move, FAL absorbed all of LG—its problems, past, reputation, and email server. It was like FAL never existed, and the transition was never explained or explored. It should’ve been one of the most central things in season six. It would’ve given Diane and Cary more to do (yeah, Cary had an arc, but do you see the repercussions? I don’t) and would’ve made it more explicit why Alicia was running for SA. An arc that investigated the tensions at newly formed FAL, rather than moving it right back into these damn offices (figuratively and literally), would’ve elucidated what all the characters were feeling, shown that Alicia was running from her existing career, and built up a lot of tension the writers could capitalize on later. The offices symbolize this missed opportunity for me, so I’m not sad to see them go. I was ready to say goodbye two years ago.)  

“There’s another possibility,” Diane informs Alicia: Expanding onto the 29th floor. “What?” Alicia asks. Diane says the 29th floor is empty, and they’re talking about expansion anyway. Alicia counters by saying they should expand because they want to, not because their conference room was accidentally destroyed. “Why not?” Diane demands, stepping onto the elevator. Alicia stares uncertainly out into the offices.

Uh oh. Is tension brewing at Lockhart/Florrick? Alicia’s first vote as a partner at L/G was a vote against expansion. She took Diane’s side there, so, obviously, things change, but I wonder how easy it would be to convince her to expand now.

Matan is in court now. He makes it look like Peter was micromanaging the case suspiciously. Diane points out that a new SA, fresh off a scandal, might be very cautious in his first weeks in office. Matan says that wasn’t the case. Rather than asking why, Diane just says, “I see,” and lets that unsubstantiated accusation rest with the jury. She moves on to asking something about Childs: Peter threw out fewer cases than Childs, which Diane uses to suggest that micromanagement was necessary, not corrupt.

“Guess who?” reads a message on Alicia’s phone as Diane and Connor talk over each other in court. She goes out into the hallway to find… Canning.

“You seem to be drawing a lot of interest,” Canning observes. Indeed she is. Everyone in the hallway is staring at her. “It happens when your husband’s on trial,” she agrees. Alicia asks if Cary is going to testify against Peter. Canning asks if Peter is going to scapegoat Cary. Alicia says he’s not, so Canning says Cary won’t testify against Peter.

Canning tries to be helpful, or something, by warning Alicia that she has a problem: Peter’s guilty, and Connor can prove it with his surprise witness. This surprise witness is none other than Geneva Pine.

And… credits. The image of Alicia talking to Canning transforms into newsprint (people really are interested!), and the lighting around her is so bright she almost looks like an angel. Or a saint. Probably a saint… then it’s the image from 7x19, and… okay. We got a new title sequence three episodes from the end? I’m going to miss this show a ton.

It’s fitting, too, that the credits change so dramatically when Alicia’s in the press again. People are going to use these images now, not the old ones.

Think we’ll get the real theme music on Sunday?

David Lee is still listening to his Gilbert & Sullivan. He distractedly drops a file off on his secretary’s desk, then notices that something looks weird… the conference room is gone!

He then storms into Diane’s office, where Diane and Alicia are now, meeting with an interior designer. Wait, what? Not only did David not hear the construction, no one alerted him after the mishap took place? No one sent out an office-wide email? He didn’t leave his office once in the time it took the room to be destroyed, Alicia and Diane to arrive on the scene, Alicia and Diane to commute to court, Alicia and Diane to be in court, and Alicia and Diane to get back to the office? And then Diane and Alicia called a designer into the office that David’s office has a window into, but did not alert David?

“Workmen accidentally destroyed the conference room. Now we’re thinking of leasing the 29th floor and building a staircase to it,” Alicia explains calmly. Why is this moving so fast? How did you get the designer there on a moment’s notice? Why are y’all trying to do this in the middle of Peter’s trial, when you should be prepping for court? Seriously: even if you’re all set on court strategy, Alicia has better things to think about, and Diane is making a huge bet on her ability to argue actual innocence for Peter if she believes she can proceed with Lockhart/Florrick expansion plans right now.

The designer says it’s not a staircase, it’s a stair presentation. Oh. Well, that makes all the difference.

Alicia spots Jason and ducks out of the meeting as the designer begins to share his interesting views on how 2009 is not part of the 21st century.

Does she want Jason so she can profess her love? Nah. She wants Jason because he’s an investigator and she has a matter that needs investigating.  

Alicia and Jason walk through the destroyed office space as Alicia explains the Geneva situation. They need to know what to use against Geneva, and what Geneva is going to say. “I’m on it,” Jason agrees, stepping into the elevator.

“I’m sorry. I have to finish this with Peter,” Alicia apologizes now that they’re in private. “Alicia, you don’t have to apologize,” Jason reassures her.

“I can’t get my head around what you said,” Alicia says. “Which part?” Jason asks. “The not wanting to get stuck, but wanting to be together. I don’t know how to reconcile those two,” Alicia clarifies. “I know,” Jason understands. “I need time. I’m not someone who likes being untethered,” Alicia states.

Oh, I love it when Alicia finds the right words to describe herself! She likes being tethered. She likes having ties. She likes having responsibilities and obligations. She likes rules, structures, and routines. She’s not going to stop liking these things overnight. She can decide to try to live in a way she thinks she wouldn’t like (maybe she’ll be pleasantly surprised!), but that’s a big risk to take. Things that tether you don’t tend to take kindly when you bolt away from them. There’s no guarantee that they’ll be waiting for you when you get back.

And, I have to stress this: there is absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying structure and routine. “Tethered” doesn’t usually sound like a good thing. It sounds suffocating and restrictive. But it’s not. Being tethered is how Alicia makes sense of the world. Spontaneity isn’t for everyone (and neither is structure). Alicia doesn’t need to let loose to be happy. She has her own definition of happiness—or, at least, she’s working towards finding one.

A synonym for “tether” is “leash.” Leash. Alicia. Say it out loud. It’s literally in her name: our girl likes stability. (No, this isn’t serious analysis. But it’s a nice coincidence, isn’t it?)

Alicia asks Jason to go back up to the office with her. He says he has to get to work.

Jason interviews a gossipy ASA we’ve never seen before. She explains that the SA’s office has a mama and a papa, and that the papa was always Peter, and the mama was… Geneva. Is this before the series started? Because it’s very difficult for me to believe that Geneva was viewed as the “mama” to Peter’s “papa” during seasons three and four, given what we saw about power structures… and given Geneva’s critiques of them. We’ve seen a lot of Geneva, but I never felt for a minute she had more sway than your average ASA. More outspoken, maybe, but more powerful? I never got that sense.

Also Geneva was apparently SLEEPING WITH PETER. And it was a long time affair that ended a month ago. Am I supposed to gasp? My reaction was to immediately begin reviewing the facts and all of the Geneva/Peter interactions. There’s a compelling argument to be made that Geneva was originally intended to have slept with Peter (she has a line in season one that suggests she was close to him), but after that? I doubt it. In season three, when Geneva called out Cary for sleeping with Dana—she was sleeping with Peter? In season four, when Geneva and Peter discussed race, they were sleeping together? In season six, when Geneva got married and was having an affair with Detective Prima, she was also sleeping with Peter? Peter slept with Geneva after he got out of prison? He jeopardized his position as SA immediately after (re)-assuming office so he could fuck an employee? He slept with Geneva through his vow renewals to Alicia, while he was Governor, when he was having Marilyn removed from his office so he wouldn’t even be tempted to cheat, and when he was in a committed relationship with Ramona? Sorry, writers. That defies all logic. And I’m going to choose to believe my version of the story, because if you’re truly asking me to believe that Peter had an affair going with Geneva this whole time, you’re asking me to believe that Peter never changed, never repented, never learned to control himself, and didn’t take his job seriously.

If you’re asking me to believe that the Peter/Geneva affair really went on this whole time, you’re also asking me to believe that the most interesting thing about Geneva’s personal life is that she’s a serial cheater. Geneva’s gotten exactly two personal plotlines over six seasons (unless I’m forgetting something?) and both involve her fucking men she shouldn’t be fucking. I saw what y’all did to Kalinda, and you are not allowed to do it to Geneva. She deserves better, and K did, too.

I mean, it is possible that Peter and Geneva had an affair that was off and on. If Geneva’s marriage imploded around the same time Peter stopped seeing Ramona, maybe they did both want fuckbuddies and fall back into old habits. But I think it’s more likely that the Kings introduced an idea in season one, mostly to emphasize Alicia’s paranoia that everyone had slept with Peter, developed the character in a different direction (again, like Kalinda), and then returned to the original intention when it served the plot. Congratulations. You had the idea when you originally wrote the character. But if you abandoned it and took the character in a different direction, you can’t just go back to that original idea. Sure, it was your original intention for the character, but that means nothing.

I’m happy—overjoyed!—to see Renee back. But this affair revelation feels more like an excuse to make Geneva relevant while allowing the writers to explore themes about fidelity. I’d rather Geneva not be relevant to this trial than have her come back to be destroyed.

Geneva is on the stand because she was at the crime scene. She felt like Locke was about to confess when Peter arrived. Oh, she felt like he was about to confess! That’s airtight. Locke hadn’t been Mirandized at the time, since he wasn’t yet under arrest. When Peter showed up, he asked Geneva if Locke had been Mirandized, so Locke lawyered up. The part where lawyers try to trick you into giving up your rights (delaying arrest so he’ll babble more without a lawyer) is okay, but the part where the SA insists that someone be informed of their rights is suspect?!

Also, this is early season three we’re talking about here. We saw Peter at that time. We saw him burn bridges with donors, refuse to engage in patronage (Eli had to call him out on it!), and genuinely strive to change. He’s gotten more corrupt as time’s gone on, but early season three? No way. That was during his phase of trying to change and doing things by the book. And when Peter’s in that mood, maybe it doesn’t last long, but it overtakes him. I fully believe that Peter might, on a high-profile case he knows will come under scrutiny (campaign donor and high-profile in general), make sure he’s done nothing wrong. If he doesn’t get a confession by any even vaguely questionable means, it can’t be thrown out. If he doesn’t use evidence that’s been tampered with, no one can question its validity.

The problem is… this also isn’t early season three we’re talking about. We never saw this case happen, so the writers can feel free to write whatever they want. Doesn’t really matter what I think s3 Peter would or wouldn’t have done. If the writers have a differing view, or if adding something in the past makes sense for plot purposes, I can’t do anything about that. All I can do is say that based on what I know about Peter at the time, the story he’s telling, and the story Diane’s telling—actual innocence, being cautious, and some evidence that accidentally went missing—makes more sense to me than the story Connor is telling.

Peter’s guilt/innocence doesn’t matter all that much, and I’m sorry for going into so much detail on it. It’s driving me crazy how inconsistent this all is, so I’m working through it here. (I’ll try to cut back on that for the rest of this, but no promises.) What it comes down to for me is that I believe Peter is innocent, I’m not sure what the show wants me to believe or where it’s going to go, and that with the facts as stated at the trial, if I were on that jury, I would have so much reasonable doubt.  

Connor asks Geneva about the bullets, two of which went missing. Geneva says the bullets were from Locke’s gun, but they were lost before the defense had a chance to test them. Geneva says she wanted to search for them, but Peter said no. Yeah, this looks pretty bad for Peter.

As Diane talks to Peter, Alicia holds his hand to look supportive. Jason, watching from the back of the courtroom, notices and walks out.

“We need to talk,” Canning texts Alicia. He says he has Alicia’s back as long as they don’t go after Cary. Canning has compiled evidence (out of the goodness of his heart?) that Geneva is lying. Or, rather, he’s compiled evidence that would suggest a reason for her to lie: statements from coworkers saying that Geneva and Peter were sleeping together, and she’s a spurned lover. Alicia just responds with, “Got it. Good. Thanks.” “You heard what I just said?” Canning asks, confused. “Yes,” Alicia says.

Then something amazing happens. “Were you wanting me to cry, Mr. Canning?” Alicia says. She begins to fake-cry. “Oh my God. I thought my husband no longer cheated,” she sobs. Then she glares at Canning. I would expect Alicia to have at least some reaction to this—if only because she knows Geneva—but around Canning? Of course she’s not going to let any emotion show.

“Wow. God, I love you,” Canning responds. “I know,” Alicia whispers as she stands up. Apparently, the Kings think Canning has had a crush on Alicia this whole time (see: the article in The Daily Beast). I’m going to pretend I never heard them say that.

Alicia’s distracted at the top of act three, just like she was at the start of the episode. Eli and Diane discuss strategy, while Alicia watches Peter talk on the phone in the hallway. Is she doubting his innocence? Thinking about his affair with Geneva? Reflecting on how it makes her feel?

She snaps back to reality to suggest that they go after Geneva’s motive: no one else heard Peter reject a search of the crime lab, which is the most damning thing in Geneva’s testimony, so make Geneva seem unreliable and Peter’s problems go away. Alicia shares the affidavits with Eli and Diane, and I think they take the news worse than Alicia did.

Peter walks back into the room, which is tenser than it was when he left to make a phone call. “What?” Peter asks. “What are those?” he says of the papers Eli’s holding. Eli can’t figure out how to answer, so Alicia chimes in: “They are affidavits from Geneva’s co-workers saying that she’s lying because you broke up with her after having a long affair.”

“What?” Peter laughs. “They are affidavits from co-workers,” Alicia repeats, never breaking eye contact. I don’t think Alicia is hurt, exactly, by this revelation (though I imagine once she read the affidavits and saw the accusations of an ongoing affair, she wondered if Peter had been cheating when he promised to never cheat again in 4x21), but I don’t think she’s as cool with it as she’s pretending to be. She’s making a point of her lack of caring. She quickly accepted it as fact, embraced it, and wants everyone to know she’s not bothered. She’s not sad or angry about it, but this feels like a defense mechanism to me, not something devoid of emotions and caring.

Peter finds the whole idea laughable. Peter says it’s not true, and Diane and Eli are like BYE YOU TWO CAN DISCUSS THIS. But Peter insists: it’s not true, and they can’t use it.

Alicia and Peter step out into the space that used to be the conference room. I love this shot. Alicia encourages Peter to use it. Peter refuses—“there was nothing between Geneva and me.” “If you’re worried about embarrassing me…” Alicia starts, again trying to prove she really! doesn’t! care!  

“I’m not worried about anything, Alicia. When people think bad things of you, they keep thinking bad things. What you have here is office gossip,” Peter insists. I believe Peter! (But mostly because it’s easier for me to believe that this is office gossip than it is for me to believe that Geneva and Peter have had an ongoing affair throughout the whole series.)  

Then Peter asks who got Alicia the information. Her investigator? Ack. At least he’s learned to be more tactful than he usually is when he brings things back to jealousy.

Kurt is showing Diane how to shoot a gun. “God, I look good with a gun,” Diane remarks. Ha! Kurt asks what Diane needs. What she needs is for Kurt to testify for Peter. He conducted the original ballistics report, but it’s “deliberately impenetrable,” according to Diane, so he needs to testify. Kurt says he needed to see the bullets again, but they went missing. Wait, so why was Geneva so sure the bullets came from Locke’s gun, then?

Anyway, Diane not-so-subtly asks Kurt to share his opinion “in a manner that is helpful to my defense.” Kurt responds with a kiss. “Please, Kurt. Help me?” Diane asks again.

And he does. Lucca questions him, noting that she’s taking over the questioning because Kurt and Diane are married. (“Congratulations!” Cuesta chimes in cheerfully.)

Lucca asks if Kurt gave Peter a preliminary report on the Locke bullets. Connor isn’t happy about this. He thinks that Peter’s state of mind is irrelevant; only his actions matter. Let me remind you at this time: Connor has no proof Peter lost the bullets and his entire fucking case is suppositions about Peter’s state of mind.

Cuesta lets Lucca continue. Diane smiles at some women—potential clients. Kurt testifies that based on his preliminary findings, the bullets did not come from Locke’s gun.

Diane’s happy! She’s now meeting with clients, talking about her all-service firm with a female perspective.

David Lee interrupts to cause trouble. He invents a fake case and refers to a client as a “bitch.”

“David, what is your problem?” Diane asks as soon as they’re away from the potential clients.

There’s some discussion of a vote—did they already decide to expand? Was Alicia on board?—and David calls it unfair because women outnumbered men. Diane responds to that in the best way possible: “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry, David. The women outnumber the men. That must be so hard for you.”

David Lee calls it gender discrimination. This is funnier than pure meritocracy!

ALICIA IN GLASSES ALERT

Jason drops off an affidavit from another co-worker saying that Geneva bullied her way onto cases. He doesn’t have anything verifiable about an affair, though it doesn’t sound like he tried to find anything verifiable. He switches the topic slightly and says he thinks he’s done. Alicia’s surprised, because she thinks Jason means he’s done being interested in her. He’s really just done investigating for Peter. “We’ll talk after the trial,” Jason says.

Holly is on the stand now, though I can’t imagine what Connor is trying to prove here, since Holly never saw the bullets and was not privy to any conversations between Peter and Kurt. Holly was asked to review the preliminary report. Who asked her to? When? I don’t understand. Shouldn’t she only be relevant to this if Peter asked her to?

Really, though, there are two points to having Holly testify: (1) create tension for Diane and Kurt and (2) have her point a finger at Cary.  

Diane stands up to cross-examine Holly, but Peter silently stops her and gestures to Lucca to begin questioning. Lovely little moment. Heightens the tension of the moment and illustrates that Peter is good at this stuff.

Lucca questions in a way that benefits Peter, but doesn’t do much for Kurt. Her argument is that yeah, Kurt was exaggerating, but maybe he also exaggerated to Peter. We don’t see Lucca as she questions: we see Kurt. This isn’t about Peter’s trial. This is about Diane and Kurt’s relationship. Seriously. We see Kurt, we see Diane, we see shots of Kurt and Diane where the focus changes to highlight one or the other, but we don’t see Lucca, and we don’t see Holly. I like this strategy.

We only see Lucca again when she moves onto the next line of questioning. She asks if the SA ever handled evidence when Holly worked with the SA’s office. Holly says it was always the prosecutor. “So, Matan?” Lucca asks. Wait, what? How did we just go from the general to the specific? Holly didn’t work on this case. Why would she be able to name Matan? And why would she be able to name Cary????

And now Alicia has a Cary problem. (Third consecutive act to end with an Alicia/Canning scene!)

Cary takes the stand. He says that Peter believed the bullets hurt Locke. “We knew the bullets damned Peter,” he adds. Peter? Is this a slip-up, or intentional finger-pointing? “You mean Locke?” Connor corrects. “Yes, my apologies. Locke,” Cary says, glaring at Alicia (or at least it’s edited so it seems he is). Interesting.

Lucca tries to discredit Cary: does he hate the Florricks? Why should the court take his testimony seriously?

“You didn’t have to do that, Cary,” Alicia confronts Cary after court. “I never meant you any harm,” she insists.

“You know, it’s amazing, Alicia. After all these years working together, you still think I would come in here to a court of law and perjure myself to hurt you. I was here to tell the truth. What are you here to do?” Cary lectures. Now, I would like to take Cary’s side her. I think this is a good, interesting point. Alicia has a way of burning bridges with people she cares about for no reason, and can be paranoid about everyone being out to get her, personally. But because I don’t know what the truth is, I don’t know what Cary’s doing here. My guess is that it’s not telling the truth, but also not attacking Alicia. He’s there to save his own ass, and if that means pointing a finger at Peter, so be it. He’s not perjuring himself, but I don’t think he’s as innocent as he’s claiming to be. Also, didn’t he tell Jason a different version of the truth a few weeks ago and specifically say/hint he would not testify to that since it could lead to a murky situation for him?

(Also, to restate: Connor Fox’s case is that he can prove Peter caused the bullets to disappear. So far he’s established motive. He hasn’t yet presented any evidence that Peter “lost” the bullets. So…)

In the now-empty courtroom, Peter tells his defense team he needs to take the stand. Lucca disagrees, but Peter’s weighed the risks. Alicia agrees with him. She suggests prepping to test it out.

Jason and Lucca meet at a bar. “Peter’s in trouble. I think he might go to prison,” Lucca deadpans. “You don’t sound that upset about it. He’s your client,” Jason comments. “Hey, I’m trying my best, but the facts just aren’t cooperating,” Lucca answers. They aren’t? But the prosecution has no concrete evidence and you have a record of a lab tech in possession of the bullets who was observed contaminating the crime scene and has a long list of mistakes on the job…

“How’s Alicia?” Jason asks. “A rock. But if he goes to prison, she’ll need a lot of comforting,” Lucca hints. I’m sorry, what? How did we get to this point where Lucca is rooting for her friend’s husband, her client, to go to jail, so her other friend can be comforting? It’s gonna make Alicia sad, make sure you’re ready to make a move? How about you, as Alicia’s friend, if you’re so concerned, comfort her now instead of meddling in her love life?

“Here’s what you don’t understand about Alicia. He goes to prison? She’ll never divorce him. Ever,” Jason says. Lucca disagrees, but I don’t. In fact, I think Jason may have just spoiled the endgame for the series. Well, no, I don’t think that’s really how it’s going to end. But I wouldn’t be surprised if it were. I would rather this not be the endgame—mostly because it puts Alicia in a reactive rather than proactive position—but the idea of Alicia staying with Peter because she values supporting the people she’s made commitments to, the people she considers family, sounds right to me. There’s a tendency to think that Alicia needs to be freed from Peter to control her fate. That’s not true. It can be true. It’s seemed all season like that’s where Alicia was heading. But it can also be true that what Alicia wants is to stay, and that’s okay.

“Because you think things are logical. She will visit him every week in prison. She will slowly drift away from me. And she will be the stoic spouse,” Jason explains. “And if he doesn’t go to prison?” Lucca wonders. “She’ll divorce him,” Jason states. I wouldn’t be so sure about that. A few weeks ago, I was certain Alicia would go through with the divorce. I still think it’s likely she will. But I dunno. Part of me wonders if going through the process of divorcing—the paperwork and all that—wouldn’t also cause Alicia to slowly drift away from Jason. There’s been something underlying Alicia and Peter’s marriage that’s made it last for twenty-plus years, and it’s not just a misguided sense of responsibility on Alicia’s part or a need to play good girl.

This is my way of saying that I’m very curious to see where Alicia and Peter land in the finale. I could see them divorcing—Alicia’s certainly been leaning that way for a long while and craving being single. But I could also see them staying together (for real or in an open marriage, but please please please for real). Every time in the past Alicia’s started to leave, she’s chosen to go back. Now, with the trial, she’s not just doing what’s asked of her (sit in court), but going above and beyond to help. And the more she works with Peter, the more apparent it becomes that there are elements of that relationship that work well. The choice isn’t as easy as it seemed in 7x18.

“And which one do you want? Because here’s something you don’t seem to understand about yourself. You may play the game of being this hard-bitten, or is it hard-boiled? One of the hards. When you, in fact, have fallen in love,” Lucca informs Jason. Lots of overuse of the word love on this show lately! Jason scoffs.

“Tell me it’s not true, and I’ll leave you here drinking, all by your lonesome,” Lucca says. “It’s not true,” Jason replies. “I don’t believe you,” Lucca says because character motivations? What are those?

“And take my advice. Stop playing it cool. You want her? Go to her and say, ‘I want you. And I’ll protect you. You don’t owe your husband anything. Be happy. Come to me. Make me happy,’” Lucca concludes.

That may just be the worst advice I’ve ever heard, Lucca. But before I get into that, I have to say that I’m really sad to see Lucca used in this way. Why is she preaching at Jason about how he needs to declare his love for Alicia as music swells? Where did that come from? All season long, I’ve defended Lucca. She’s been accused of playing this role all season—plot device/advice fairy who is there to support Alicia. That hasn’t been true all season, but it’s true in this scene, and that’s disappointing. I understand that the writers need things for her to do and have ideas they want to get on the screen, but they can do better by Lucca. At the very least, they could throw in a scene where Alicia asks Lucca how she’s doing, just to get a little reprieve from her own problems, or a scene where Lucca tries to comfort Alicia. The latter would still be Lucca propping up Alicia, but at least it wouldn’t involve a sappy speech. They could even do something cool with it, where it becomes clear that even though Lucca means well, she’s young and she’s never been married and Alicia can’t really take comfort in her words.

Also, this is just bad advice. And unnecessary advice. How is Jason playing it cool? He told Alicia he wanted her. LITERALLY, IN THOSE WORDS. She said she had to think about it. She said she needed time. Does Lucca know that? We, the audience, know it, so why waste time having Lucca give Jason irrelevant advice? He’s not playing it cool. He dropped that act last week.

Beyond that, giving Alicia a passionate speech will change nothing. Alicia isn’t going to drop Peter in the middle of the trial. She’s not going to be swayed by a declaration of love. There’s a problem in front of her: how can she reconcile her fondness for being tethered with her desire to give it a go with Jason? (This problem is, of course, complicated by residual feelings for Peter and the ongoing trial.) Jason declaring his love more emphatically won’t make that problem go away. Unless Jason is willing to compromise and stay put, nothing he says is going to sway Alicia.

Especially not I’ll protect you. You don’t owe your husband anything. You know what two things Alicia has just loved (and by loved, I mean really fucking hated) throughout the series? People protecting her when she doesn’t want or ask to be protected, and people informing her of her own feelings. Alicia does not need to be protected. That’s not a selling point. And she certainly doesn’t need to be told what she does or does not owe her husband of twenty-some years by her (never-been-married) lover of three months. Further, I don’t think she’d like the implication that she’s just acting out of a silly sense of duty. She knows her priorities, thank you very much.

Diane curls up next to Kurt in bed. She apologizes: “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I will make you happy every day of your life, but please forgive me. Please.” She starts to cry, and Kurt, after a moment of deliberation, holds and kisses her hand. Awwwww.

Now to the show’s other married couple: Alicia and Peter. They’re doing some witness prep after hours. The fact that they’re here, in Alicia’s apartment, one-on-one, suggests to me that Alicia wants to do all she can to help, the same way Peter leapt into action for her in late season six. These two as a team are a force of nature.

Alicia mentions that Garber donated $5,000 to Peter’s SA campaign, then $20,000 to his gubernatorial campaign, after the Locke mistrial. She asks Peter to explain. He says he can’t. That’s probably the smart thing to say, but let me try! $5,000 is not a big enough donation for Peter to cause a mistrial; Peter was not running or intending on running for governor two weeks into his SA stint (that was Eli, but very decidedly not Peter). The donations quadrupled because, shockingly, it requires more capital to run for governor than it does to run for State’s Attorney. Boom. Or, maybe, Garber interpreted it as a quid pro quo and donated more. I get the argument here, but I’m not convinced. Optics matter, but I’m frustrated by the lack of facts.

Peter gets a little irritated as this line of questioning goes on, and Alicia tells him he’s being too belligerent. “You’re the governor. Be dignified,” she advises. 

Alicia goes to Peter’s past convictions, which means to the prostitutes. Peter says he was exonerated. Alicia asks if he’s saying he never paid for prostitutes or cheated on his wife. “Haven’t broken every promise you’ve ever made?” she throws in there. Is this lawyer Alicia or Alicia talking? Both, I think. Peter wonders the same and stares at her. “It goes to character. To your trustworthiness,” she explains.

“I believe I’ve been upfront about this. I did pay for prostitutes. I did cheat on my wife. And I have worked every day to make up for those indiscretions,” he apologizes. Alicia tries to move on, but he wants to continue: “And that is one of the reasons why, when I was voted back into office, I spent every day trying to make sure there was not a single bad conviction. Because I saw what bad convictions did to families, did to me, did to my wife. And I swore that I would never let that ever happen again.”

Alicia sits down. “Is that true?” she asks softly, speaking as herself. “Yes, Counselor. That is true,” Peter says, pulling them back into the world of witness prep. “It’s also true that I micromanaged this case. Guilty. But that’s what you should want from a State’s Attorney. Someone who won’t accept excuses for a failure to Mirandize or allow for bad evidence collection,” he speechifies.

“Someone who loses bullets,” Alicia jumps back in to lawyer mode. “That was just a mistake,” Peter says. It’s that thing where sometimes the truth (if this is the truth) doesn’t sound believable because people like stories, not random chance.

“You say that you have worked hard every day to make up for the indiscretions of the past. But we have evidence that you were having a longtime affair with not only a fellow prosecutor…,” Alicia accuses. Peter says they’d object. Alicia argues that Cuesta would allow it.

“At what point are we playing husband and wife here, and at what point lawyers?” Peter snaps. Good question.

“All points. Because here’s the thing: you get up on that stand, and every past indiscretion will be determined admissible. Your sleeping with Geneva Pine. Your sleeping with Marilyn Garbanza. Your sleeping with Ramona Lytton,” Alicia accuses. She is not wrong. But the frustration underlying this is about Peter cheating (and yes, Geneva and Marilyn would count as cheating), at least in part. Alicia’s never fully dealt with that pain, which is why she always goes back to it as an attack, which is why Peter reacts so angrily to it, and so on. (If these two stay together, I don’t see any hope for them really making it if they don’t actually talk about what went wrong and the cheating.) (Also, Peter insists he didn’t sleep with Geneva or Marilyn, but snaps at Alicia when she mentions Ramona. I’m not sure if he did or didn’t sleep with Geneva—I think didn’t. I am 99.9% sure he never slept with Marilyn. And I think the only reason Kalinda didn’t make this list—well, the only diegetic reason— is that no one would know to bring it up in court. Alicia may be speaking as both wife and lawyer, but she’s primarily speaking as lawyer. Wife Alicia would mention Kalinda. Lawyer Alicia would restrain herself.)

Peter, under a lot of pressure, snaps back. “And you sleeping with Will Gardner! And you sleeping with your investigator!” YEAH, DUDE, WHILE YOU WERE SEPARATED. He calms down after he realizes what he’s said. “I’m not on trial, buddy,” Alicia responds, and we’re done with witness prep.

I loved that scene. I think a lesser show would’ve turned it into a screaming match that was entirely about Alicia and Peter’s relationship, but it’s more true to this show, and to these characters, to carefully walk that line, and to be aware when it’s being crossed. It would be a handy device to prompt a conversation, but Alicia and Peter are too task-oriented and concerned with the trial to let it get out of hand. The tension is still present, but it doesn’t overwhelm.

In court, Connor is grilling Peter on his alleged affair with Geneva. When he denies it, Connor is all, “so then you didn’t sleep with prostitutes, either?” What, if Peter slept with one, he had to sleep with everyone he’s accused of sleeping with? (Optics, optics, optics. He says in 4x03 that people will believe he slept with Indira when he denies it because he denied the prostitutes at first, too.)

Peter notes that he’s already admitted to sleeping with prostitutes. Connor condescendingly says that makes it all okay. Diane objects.

Peter says he doesn’t understand what this has to do with his performance as SA. Here’s Connor’s question: “You have lied so much, Mr. Florrick. Why should any of us ever believe you again?” I WANT TO PULL MY HAIR OUT. THERE ARE SO FEW FACTS HERE.

This gives Peter an opportunity for a monologue, and he’s great at those. “Because I went to prison. Because I was wrongly convicted,” he starts. “I didn’t ask for a speech,” Connor dismisses. “You asked a question. I’m answering it,” Peter replies strongly, making Connor seem like he’s trying to silence him.

“Am I a flawed individual? Yes. Have I done things in my personal life that I regret? Yes, deeply. [He looks at Alicia here.] But I never wanted anyone to go through what I went through [he looks at the jury], and that is why I was a hard-ass State’s Attorney. That’s why I threw out bad confessions. That’s why I micromanaged. But that’s when I was at my best. That’s when I was most honorable,” he explains. Round of applause for Chris Noth, everyone. He makes me believe that Peter could be a successful politician.

Now the trial’s over, and I haven’t heard half the stuff that was mentioned in 7x20 brought up, nor have I heard anything resembling actual proof that Peter was responsible for the disappearance of the bullets. As I said earlier: I have lots of reasonable doubt. I wonder if the jury will, or if they’ll be swayed by optics/facts I didn’t quite follow/facts that we didn’t get to see.

Back at LG, Diane and Lucca (??) are talking to the stair presentation designer. David Lee storms in to snark about how women are taking over. He has an EEOC complaint in his hand. “I have just as much right to complain as any minority,” he insists. Lucca glares at him incredulously and tries not to laugh. GO LUCCA!  

Then someone from the department of buildings walks past. Apparently, the construction dudes took out a wall that supported the 29th floor, so the 28th floor is no longer safe to occupy. The whole floor has to move to the 27th. This means that when Connor arrives at the firm, he sees a destroyed conference room, caution tape, and a hand written sign announcing that Lockhart/Florrick (should I be calling it LF?) is on the 27th floor.

Connor goes to Alicia with an offer of a plea for two years. She says she’ll ask Peter. Connor tells her she should try to convince Peter. Now, now. That’s your job, Connor.

At Alicia’s apartment, Eli tries to convince Alicia and Peter there are ways out of this. Alicia asks Eli to give them a minute; he complies.

Alicia immediately reaches for the wine and two glasses.

“Can I make a confession to you?” Peter starts. “Sure,” Alicia agrees nervously. “I never liked wine. I only drank it ‘cause you liked it. I was always a Scotch guy. I guess I inherited that from my father,” Peter admits. Oh my God, I love it. Peter drank wine all these years because he knew it made Alicia happy. He understood how important wine was to her and just went with it. This story feels so real. You say something silly early on, or don’t tell the other person you don’t like something, and then you’re eating/drinking it forever. My 6th grade English teacher had a story like this about her grandma making some dish every year for Thanksgiving—the whole family hated it, but they ate it anyway because they loved her more than they hated the food.

Alicia offers to get Peter some Scotch, but he says wine has grown on him. Awww.

“Two years. Oh, God. I was in there for only eight months and almost died,” Peter considers. “Wait for the verdict, Peter,” Alicia advises. “I do that, I may actually die in prison,” Peter worries.

“What did you think of the jury?” Peter wants to know. “I think they were judging us. But I think your speech at the end went over well,” Alicia says. “I was always good with a speech,” Peter reflects distractedly. (He was.) Alicia smiles.

“There’s no good answer, is there?” Peter says. “I don’t know what to say,” Alicia replies, moving around the kitchen island to comfort Peter. She puts her arms around him. “I’m not good at gambling.”

“Don’t decide yet, Peter. The jury’s retired. Just… sleep on it,” she urges him. But he doesn’t want to. “I’m gonna take the deal,” he decides. “It’s the smart thing to do. Two years. I’ll get out, write a book, start over. Are you gonna come visit me?” he says.

“I will,” Alicia promises, just as Jason predicted.  (There’ve been a lot of “you’ll visit me in prison?” conversations on this show, haven’t there?)

“The hardest thing is being forgotten,” Peter muses. “I won’t forget,” Alicia reassures him. They’re interrupted by Alicia’s phone buzzing. “What?” Peter asks when Alicia looks up from the screen. “The jury’s back,” she says. Aaaaaand… fade to black.

(Didn’t she just say the jury had retired? How is the jury back if it was already retired for the night?) (And why are we denied the verdict in an episode called Verdict?!) 

[florrickandassociates]

TGW Thoughts: 7x20-- Party

Thoughts on 7x20 under the cut. 

On a painting in Alicia’s office, two men in suits sit in an empty auditorium, smoking. The painting is moody—deep blues and yellows, a haunting emptiness, hundreds of unoccupied folding chairs, trash on the ground. Loneliness? Companionship amidst loneliness? I couldn’t tell you. The painting reminds me a little bit of Nighthawks (the color scheme especially), and this is where it becomes apparent that my knowledge of art history is limited to only the most well-known paintings, and where it becomes clear that I should probably stop attempting to analyze art.

The camera pans to Alicia’s guest chairs at her desk, also empty. Then her bedroom: empty. And her dining room: empty. It’s partially a contrast to how jam-packed these spaces will become as the episode progresses, partially establishing shots, and partially a farewell to some of the show’s sets.

Finally, the camera finds Alicia and Jason where we left them. “And what do you want?” Jason says, stepping forward. “You,” Alicia answers. This was shot-reverse-shot with close-ups at the end of 7x19—here, the camera is at a distance from Alicia and Jason until there’s new material.

“You’re not getting divorced because of me?” Jason replies to Alicia’s declaration. “No,” Alicia insists. She stops and considers it for a beat. “No,” she repeats. (True!!)

“Because… that would be a bad idea,” Jason says, indicating that he’s not looking for something long-term.

“Why?” Alicia presses. “Because I don’t know what we are yet,” Jason says. And… Alicia staying married to Peter would help them figure this out? The characters on this show don’t seem to understand that there’s a relationship stage—several, actually—between fuckbuddies and happily ever after. Alicia can leave Peter because she recognizes she wants to have the possibility of something else, or because she realizes that being with Peter is restricting her from acting how she’d like to, and that’s different from Alicia committing to life with Jason.

Actually, Alicia does seem to understand that distinction (even though she muddles it a bit later with the word “love”): “Well, I don’t, either. But I’m through delaying anything. I’ve looked back at my life, and every time I didn’t say something I meant, or waited for a better moment…”

Someone knocks on the door and interrupts, naturally. Alicia sighs with exasperation. Jason tries to back out of the conversation: “I should go anyway…”

“No, you’re staying, and they can just wait until I’m done,” Alicia commands. “There is no better moment. That’s the one thing, the only thing, I’ve discovered. Everything comes to an end. There’s no better moment than now.” How much restraint did it take the writers not to use the word “timing” in here?! (And did they leave it out to be subtle, or to open this up to topics broader than just Will and romance?) The point is, bad timing is bullshit. You make it work or you don’t. You find a way around comically terrible moments (like Will phoning in the middle of a press conference, or Peter being an idiot and breaking house arrest as you’re headed off on a date) or you don’t. You can choose to let your circumstances—your timing, your moment, whatever—define you or you can choose to be active and work around them. This is not a good time for Alicia to be divorcing Peter. He’s in the middle of a scandal. But they found a way. There’s almost always a way. You can’t just wait for things to clear up, because there’s no guarantee they’re going to. (And for Alicia, there’s pretty much a guarantee they’re just going to get murkier).

I’m chatting with Flexiblefish as I write this, and she’s making the excellent point that this is not about Will specifically. She’s right. This is about how Alicia deals with everything. This is about the passivity people see in her, her need for a huge catalyst (think: Peter/Kalinda) to make a choice. This is about her hesitance to forgive (Peter, Kalinda, Zach) or work on problems, her problems with asking for things (see: season 6’s campaign), her willingness to let things play out even when she senses they aren’t going to end well. Alicia is saying no more. The catalyst that prompted her to dump Peter wasn’t something big. It wasn’t an explosive fight, or Peter being extremely possessive, or a scandal, or a reveal of more cheating, or any of the traumatic events of the last seven seasons. It was Alicia’s new lover saying maybe they should stop, and Alicia’s subsequent realization that she could let things play out or take action, and that she knew what she wanted to do.

And that, my friends, is controlling your own fate. The timing is still colossally bad. Things aren’t going to work out perfectly. Alicia doesn’t control external circumstances, and she’ll never be able to. But she can control how and when she reacts. She can wait for the next tragedy or scandal to serve as a wake-up call (her words in her ABA address in 5x14), or she can decide without any further delay to trade situations she isn’t happy in for ones she’d like to try out.

(To complicate this a bit, I think there was a lot of genuine uncertainty in Alicia’s past that contributed to her passivity—part of the reason she never ran off with Will, for example, was that she prioritized her family, not that she waited until it was too late to take action. I also think there are several moments where she’s avoided doing difficult things she wanted to do because she thought there’d be a better moment or that she just needed more time. AND, because this isn’t convoluted enough, I think she’s probably reading some moments that I would put into the first category as moments where she waited around for good timing.)

(I’m rambling but while I’m on this tangent, for A/W specifically, in the later seasons, it wasn’t Alicia waiting for a better moment: it was Alicia taking steps to make sure a better moment would never exist. You don’t break up with a man, give him four separate break up speeches (in s4), and then burn all bridges if you’re hoping there’s going to be a better moment around the corner. You do that when you’re done waiting and you’ve decided differently. A/W examples of Alicia waiting for a better moment include a lot of season 1, putting off and deflecting conversations in season 2, prolonging the relationship in season 3 when she’d already decided it wasn’t love, and maybe some pre-show Georgetown moments.) (Also, I know Bad Timing is a Willicia thing, but I think it’s mostly a Will thing. I’ve never been quite convinced Alicia believes that Bad Timing is the reason they never got together, unless Bad Timing means that it was only at age 45 that Will became the person she needed him to be when they were 23.) (For the record, that’s how the Kings have defined it in the past (http://www.ew.com/article/2012/04/29/good-wife-season-finale-kalinda-husband), which is why I’d push so hard against the “Alicia just didn’t seize the moment” interpretation, should anyone want to put it forth.)

(Wow this is more stream of consciousness than usual but I should PROBABLY clarify that most of this rambling about Willicia stems from my initial impression of the scene: that Alicia was talking specifically about Bad Timing and Will. So, thank you again, flexiblefish, for making me see beyond that to get the larger and more in character point of this scene.)

Jason says they’ll talk later (Grace really needs Alicia’s help with the flowers!) and then gives Alicia a small box with a bow on it. He doesn’t seem to want to give it to her, so I’m not sure why he let her see it in the first place. Maybe he was supposed to be trying to hide it, but Alicia noticed? He calls it “nothing” and then explains it’s a deed to land on Mars. What the fuck? It was meant to be a joke, but still, what the fuck. Jason says he’ll phone, and apologizes for the gift (which Alicia hangs on to).

When Jason leaves the apartment, Grace is outside surrounded by giant floral arrangements, one in the shape of a cross. Christian funeral flowers have been delivered to the Jewish ketubah signing.  

“Hi, Jason,” Grace says suspiciously as Jason tries to leave. Grace continues to shout into the apartment about the problem—the florist got the order wrong (proving that Mrs. Florrick should’ve gotten the flowers herself) and they have funeral flowers.

But Alicia is too busy reeling from Jason’s non-reply and strange gift to answer. She stands in shocked, still silence, facing away from the camera, before finally turning around and coming back to earth (I’m funny!). She’s on the verge of tears, but collects herself and goes to deal with the crisis.

“You don’t think we can pass them off as celebratory, can we? Like, white for spring?” Grace suggests. "It would be funny if we try,” Alicia replies.

Gotta love the visual of Alicia looking up while carrying a giant floral cross into her apartment. She’s probably looking up to make sure it clears the doorway, but it looks like she’s looking up like, “What is this?”

Jason walks through the LG hallways and finds Eli and Marissa in the conference room. Eli wants Jason to investigate Peter, prove that he’s guilty, find the real case against Peter. Fun position for Jason to be in! Really simple!

After changing for the party, Alicia sits on her bed and opens the gift from Jason. “The Florrick Homestead,” the deed reads. Alicia ponders its significance, reading way too much into a joke present she wasn’t supposed to receive after such a heavy conversation.

Grace walks in and asks Alicia what she’s holding, gives an update on the food (it’s here), the flowers (they can’t be exchanged), and compliments her look for the night. Alicia returns the compliment, and then Grace asks to see the piece of paper.

“It’s a deed. To land on Mars,” Alicia explains. “Why do you have a deed to land on Mars?” Grace wonders. “I have no idea,” Alicia laughs. “It was a gift.”

“What, from a 13-year-old?” Grace remarks insightfully. “Or 12. Maybe he was 12 years old,” Alicia plays along. Bwah! The Florrick ladies are right, Jason: this isn’t a very mature gift. (It might be kind of cute, though, if it were given with proper context. There may be no “better moments” but that doesn’t mean there aren’t moments that are especially ill-suited to confusing gestures.)

Alicia tells Grace the gift is from “someone at work” and Grace accepts that answer. “500 acres. I mean, that’s a lot of acres,” she comments. “You’re right. It could’ve been 50 acres,” Alicia responds. “You could ranch there,” Grace jokes. “I could raise a family,” Alicia jokes. Then they both laugh. I love it. This is the kind of moment I want to see all the time. There’s no real reason in the plot Grace needs to know about the deed, but it makes sense that she would have conversations with her mom and laugh with her. The last few seasons have been far too light on throwaway moments like this, and that’s a shame. Even though I’m calling them throwaways, they’re really anything but: moments like this build the foundations for later plots. It’s easier to care about and understand Alicia’s relationship with her daughter if we know what an average moment for them looks like, not just what happens when they talk about religion. It’s easier to understand Alicia feeling like she has an empty nest if we get the sense that she currently doesn’t have an empty nest.

“Hello? Mom?” a voice calls from the other room. It’s Zach!!!! Alicia looks even more excited than I feel. (She loves her kids. Look at that reaction. There is no way she does not love her kids.)

She runs out into the doorway, gives Zach a huge hug, and thanks him for coming home and for wearing a tie. Sighhhhhh. These family scenes are wonderful. I wish we could’ve had more of them.

Zach tells Alicia he has a surprise for her. Grace responds before Alicia can: “Oh, is it a deed to land on Mars?!” Bwah!

I would transcribe all the banter, but really, what makes it great isn’t the content of the dialogue (though that’s good too!) but rather the way Graham, Makenzie, and Julianna play it. It’s so affectionate and silly and it feels like a family. (I’m going to resist the urge to say, “I want more of these moments!” a thousand more times as the episode progresses, so just imagine that I’m adding that comment after every single positive comment I make about a family scene.)

Jason’s investigations take him to Matan’s office, where he watches Matan sleep, which is not creepy or weird at all. Matan knows Jason already (makes sense, since he researched him in 703, but I’m curious to know if they knew each other before that).

They’ve totally changed this case since it was first mentioned. In the episode where Cary talks about it, it’s the ex-girlfriend’s new boyfriend that’s murdered, and Locke (the alleged murderer) is a poor kid with an unusually star-studded defense team (which surprises Cary) because he’s the love child of Florrick campaign donor Garber. Here, it’s the girlfriend that’s murdered and Locke is a rich kid.

Matan is certain that Locke was guilty and there shouldn’t have been a mistrial. He doesn’t want Jason to get the governor off. (No! Jason will only get the governor’s wife off!) (Hell yeah I just went for that joke!)

Jackie and Howard are ten minutes early! Alicia panics and then opens the wine. “Can I get a hit of that?” Zach asks. Alicia looks at him, like, YOU?, but pours him a glass anyway. Zach is old enough to have wine with his mom now, oh my god, what happened to the little 14 year old?! (Okay, so Zach isn’t actually 21 yet—though he should be, but timeline—but he’s old enough that Alicia’s willing to pour him a glass!)

“How are you, mom?” Zach asks. “I’m hunky-dory,” Alicia replies. “You seem frazzled,” Zach observes (correctly). “Thanks,” Alicia replies. “It’s a good thing. It’s more real,” Zach says. Does that mean he used to think his mom felt fake?

Alicia and Zach toast to being real, and Alicia watches Zach carefully as he drinks. Aw.

Grace takes coats into Alicia’s room and closes the door behind her, but Jackie opens the door to get to the bathroom. All the funeral flowers are stashed in the room, and Grace tries to explain that they’re a mistake, but Jackie actually likes the flowers and somehow doesn’t think they’re funeral flowers, even though of all the people on this show, Jackie (the older woman who’s used to planning parties and recognizing social graces) should be the first to recognize the significance of the flowers. At the very least, she should be concerned by the giant floral cross, given that her husband-to-be is Jewish.

All the guests are early! Including a young woman looking for Zach! When she finds Zach, she gives him a big kiss. Zach has another girlfriend!

Meanwhile, the cake order also got screwed up, and it, too, is cross-shaped and reads “Rest in Peace.” The way Alicia laughs at the mistake is better than the visual gag.

Zach introduces Hannah to Alicia. “I’m so glad to meet you,” Hannah begins. Good start. “I loved that you stood by your husband. A lot of people my age think it’s a throwback to an old kind of domesticity, but I think it’s a harbinger of a new feminism. Like Huma Abedin, you know? Women should do what they want, even if what they want is to stand by their man.” GIRL. What are you saying? Stop. Regardless of whether I agree or disagree, why the hell would you open with this to the mother of your boyfriend? It’s presumptuous and personal and almost certainly unwanted, and it’s to Alicia’s credit that she just responds with an overwhelmed, “Hi,” almost as if to say, “Slow down there, kid.”

(For the record, my view on this is: In an ideal world, there would be no expectation for women to play Good Wife, whether in politics or in day to day life. But this isn’t an ideal world, and there is an expectation, and yes, it’s one that demands that women (appear to) put men before themselves and appear to be domestic. The pressure society puts on women to play Good Wife should absolutely be criticized. The women who choose to play that role—for whatever reason (and we’ve seen, with Alicia alone, that there can be myriad reasons to make that choice)—should not be criticized. Simple as that. The media and gender norms should be the targets here, not women who’ve already been publicly humiliated whose lives are none of your business.

Hannah is a proctor (?) in Zach’s dorm. “I know I’m older, but Zach is older in maturity than he looks. And, sometimes, compatibility is more a function of intellectual reach than physical years, don’t you think?” Alicia simply narrows her eyes at Hannah. But, seriously, ugh, Hannah. This bit of her philosophy reminds me of Becca, the big bad junior Zach dated as a freshman in high school. That’s not a good thing. (Also, Zach? Mature? Ummmm…)

Cary and Matan meet in a bar. Matan notes that Cary looks relaxed, and Cary calls it the “upside of unemployment.” Awww, I’m happy you’re free, Cary. Matan and Cary talk about Jason, and Matan warns Cary (or worries to Cary) that Team Florrick might be looking for a scapegoat. “Whenever there’s a battle between truth and power, truth loses,” Matan frets.

Alicia asks Grace, once Zach and Hannah are out of earshot, how long Zach and Hannah have been together. Grace didn’t even know they were dating, and notes that Hannah is “like 23.” THE HORROR. They should’ve made her a grad student, not a college senior. A college sophomore and a college senior? That’s not even the slightest bit uncommon or worrying. Maybe it would be worrying to a parent? That age gap feels like nothing to me.

Veronica shows up at the party, apparently as a guest of Jackie. Alicia’s eyes widen when she sees her mother, and if you played the look out of context, it wouldn’t look out of place at the most dramatic moment of a horror movie. Owen’s there, too, as Veronica’s driver, since Veronica can no longer drive. Or, rather, Veronica chooses to no longer drive. Why do anything for yourself when you could obligate other people to do things for you?! I’ve missed you, Veronica.

Veronica wants the wine right away. She’s also certain Jackie only invited her to rub it in that she found a new husband and Veronica didn’t. That’s probably true. Veronica seems like a huge mess, even more than usual, tonight. She totally is jealous.

Veronica says she “heard you got into college” to Grace. Who talks like this?! You got into college?! Maybe Veronica deserves more credit than I’m willing to give her and she’s happy that Grace is going to any college, but in these interactions, among upper class people at least, the name of the school usually comes up. Also I’m just resentful of this line because, dammit, I need to know where Grace is going to go to school.

There is so much wine in the kitchen. So much wine. Alicia will be stocked for about a week.

When Grace mentions that Zach drinks now, there’s some conversation about underage drinking. Veronica supports it—shock. (She also supported it in 4x21.) (When Zach turned 18.)

Peter, Eli, and Marissa arrive as Owen inspects the R.I.P. cake.

Alicia and Peter retreat to the bedroom to talk. Peter eyes the funeral flowers. “There was a misunderstanding,” Alicia explains.

Peter and Alicia are working out logistics of the divorce. They’ll do a one-lawyer divorce because it’s amicable, and Peter has a suggestion for who that one lawyer should be. Alicia agrees and calls Peter’s approach “smart.” “Good, because I don’t want to fight with you,” Peter replies. “I know, I don’t want to, either,” Alicia replies. Yes! This is how a Florrick divorce should happen No fireworks.

Alicia changes the subject: “So Zach brought a girlfriend here.” “Really?” Peter smiles. “She’s 23 years old. She graduates this year. Should we be worried?”

“Oh, I dunno. It’s a college romance. They don’t last long,” Peter says. “We were a college romance,” Alicia points out. I don’t think these writers know what college is, or that it’s different from law school. “And look at us,” Peter retorts. Alicia laughs.

A woman opens the door, presumably looking for the bathroom, and Peter and Alicia, in unison, ask her to give them a moment. At the risk of reading too much into this, the conversation is mostly concluded. But Alicia and Peter are on the same page… and that page is that they don’t want an interruption to end their conversation. A possible parallel to earlier in the episode?

“So… we’re divorcing, then?” Alicia says after the woman shuts the door. “We are,” Peter confirms. “Do you feel sad?” Alicia asks. “I do,” Peter replies. “I guess it’s just… that’s what happens,” Alicia offers. “Yeah,” Peter agrees. Gah. This isn’t fun.

Alicia and Peter can’t stay in their bubble of conversation forever, because a new problem has presented itself (and, yeah, it needs their immediate attention). Zach and Hannah have announced their engagement to the whole family. Two questions: Why does Grace call Alicia out to the hallway, but not Peter? And why is Jackie happy about this?

Actually, three questions, with the third being WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, ZACH?

“Alicia, why is he getting married?” Veronica wants to know. Alicia suggests that Veronica ask Zach that question. “He’d just say ‘love.’ You were like that when you were in college,” Veronica informs Alicia. Like what? Someone who believed that love was a valid reason to get married, or someone who tried to get married at age nineteen? Hopefully the former. Also, when did Veronica stop believing in ~love~?

How is Zach nineteen? Seriously, how is Zach nineteen? If we assume that 7x21, three years after his 18th birthday in 4x21, will be his 20th birthday, so he’ll only be 19 for another week, it kind of tracks? Oh, timeline.

ALICIA’S DAD WAS EIGHT YEARS OLDER THAN VERONICA!!!!!!!!!!! This doesn’t actually matter, nor does it tell me much, nor does it surprise me. However, it’s a piece of information about Alicia’s dad, and those are hard to come by. Alicia removes herself from the conversation as Veronica begins explaining to Owen that his father was a man (as opposed to a boy).

Kurt and Diane arrive! Ahhh!!! This is exciting! “Howard is… family now…” Alicia explains, and Diane laughs.

Alicia watches them walk into the party, which means she watches Kurt grab Diane’s ass. Bwahahaha, those two.  

Alicia and Peter talk to Zach. Zach is, in addition to getting married, dropping out of school. He says it’ll only be a temporary hiatus from school. Right. “You know it cost us $60,000 to put you in that school?” Peter reminds Zach. That’s $60,000 a year, by the way. Zach says they’ll save that money next year. And the $120,000 they’ve already invested?

“Why are you dropping out, Zach?” Alicia wants to know. The answer? Hannah got a translator job in France, so they’re moving to France. Psst! Zach! Study abroad programs exist. Do an academic year program in Paris. I’m sure you can find one.

But does Zach have a plan for what he’s going to do in France? Peter wants to know. Zach does not have a plan, but he’s “been thinking about writing.”

At that, Alicia buries her head in her hands. Peter and Zach both look at her, wondering if she’s crying. “Zach. Zach, come on. Look at your mom. It’s insane,” Peter tries to guilt him. “I mean, who’s gonna pay for this?” Hannah, apparently.

“You’re gonna let her pay for you?” Peter asks. “Why not? We’re not as held up on the gender thing,” Zach explains. Oh dear. This isn’t about the “gender thing.” If this were Grace running off with a boyfriend, Peter and Alicia would be making the same damn point. Also, Zach and Hannah do not have children. Zach isn’t saying he’s going to be a stay at home dad. He’s saying he’s going to let his girlfriend bankroll his adventures in France while he sits around doing nothing.

Alicia still looks like she’s crying. She sounds like it, too, when Peter asks her if she wants to rejoin the conversation. But it soon becomes clear she’s laughing more than crying.

“Zach. Face it. This is the stupidest thing I’ve heard you say in a while,” she starts. Ouch. (It is stupid. THE DANGERS OF MARIJUANA, EVERYONE!!! THIS WOULDN’T HAVE HAPPENED IF ZACH DIDN’T SMOKE POT THAT ONE TIME!!!! MARIJUANA IS A GATEWAY DRUG TO MARRIAGE AND RUNNING OFF TO FRANCE!!!!) “Thanks, mom,” Zach snarks. But Alicia’s not done: “And there have been some pretty stupid things…” Now Peter tries to intervene. But Alicia keeps going: “You’re going to move to France with Hannah so you can be a househusband and write what? What are you going to write, Zach?” OUCH. Part of me is cringing at Alicia being so mean to her child, but another part of me is cheering Alicia on.

Zach is going to write a memoir, because he’s in a memoir class. Hey, I’d read it. But dude, you’re 19.

Alicia can no longer conceal her laughter, which makes Zach angrily stand up and declare, “You know what? I love her. And I’m getting married and we’re moving to France!”

He storms out as Peter calls after him, “Zach, we’re your parents and we love you, but we want you to think about this!”

“Well, we have one kid left,” Alicia deadpans. “I guess we shouldn’t laugh at him,” Peter reminds her. “I know. I’m sorry. I think you have to handle this; I’ve been drinking,” she tells Peter. Peter nods.

“You’re a good dad, you know?” Alicia praises Peter. Awwww. (He is.) (Apart from the whole breaking the family apart by fucking prostitutes thing, he is.) “Are you being funny?” Peter wonders. “No! You are,” Alicia says. “Yeah, and look how well it turned out,” Peter notes.

Alicia says she’ll talk to Zach, then. “Oh? And say what?” Peter asks. “Je ne sais pas?” Alicia laughs. Bwahahahahahaha.

Jason phones as Alicia’s leaving to talk to Zach. Peter says to take the call (he doesn’t know it’s Jason), but Alicia declines it.

Jason leaves a voicemail asking for Alicia to phone back, then gets back to investigating. He talks to a detective who praises Peter, but says it was odd Peter was at the Locke crime scene and that it’s “probably just irrelevant that he wanted to double check all the blood collection.”

Carlton (a crew member who’s been with the show for ages!) shows Cary into Canning’s office. Cary says he needs a lawyer, so he goes to Canning because “I don’t work there anymore.” “I’m sorry about that,” Canning says. “I’m not,” Cary replies.

Back at the party, Alicia and Zach are talking. “I’m so glad that you find my life funny, mom,” Zach says. “I’m not laughing now, Zach. I’m asking a favor,” Alicia half-apologizes. “I’m in love, mom. You should be talking to Hannah right now and not me,” he insists. “Try to figure out why I’m in love with her.” (Because you’re a kid and she’s a cute girl who seems like she has the world figured out? Is that too harsh?)

“I see you and dad rolling your eyes about her; she’s not up to your standards, she’s…” Zach continues. Oh, Zach, no. That’s… that’s not the problem. (Plus, and yes, I understand the irony of me saying this as a know-it-all 22 year old, I think the biggest problem with Hannah herself is that she talks to adults like she understands everything there is to know about life when she’s really just a kid. It might read as mature to Zach, but to Alicia and Peter, it reads as a very specific sort of immaturity.)

“Zach, let’s make this simple, okay?” Alicia gets the conversation back on (her) track. “Your dad is on trial.” “Mom, don’t guilt me with that,” Zach says. And I understand that. I understand where Alicia’s coming from, too.

“Zach, he’s in trouble. He could go to prison for three years,” Alicia says. Damn, people on this show say each other’s names a lot. Anyway. Alicia asks Zach to stay for the duration of the trial. “It’s what you do for family,” she explains. At the very least, it’s what she’s doing for her family. Zach doesn’t answer.

Now Jason’s interviewing a lab tech. She, too, makes it seem like Peter is guilty.

Lucca gets to be at the party so Alicia can talk about Jason. (Usually, Lucca’s given more to do, but yeah, in this episode, she’s there just for Alicia to have a friend to talk to.)

“So… Jason called. Said you weren’t returning his calls,” Lucca says. “I’m throwing a party,” Alicia explains. Hey, what was that you were saying about there not being a “better moment”? “He thought it was more than that,” Lucca explains, pouring Alicia more wine.

“I told him I wanted to be with him. All the time,” Alicia confesses. “Okay. What did he say?” Lucca replies, intrigued. “He gave me a deed to Mars,” Alicia states. “I don’t understand. Is that a metaphor?” Lucca wonders. “He gave me a gift of a deed he bought online. A deed to 500 acres… on Mars,” Alicia explains. Lucca shakes her head.

“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Or why I thought that I loved him,” Alicia rambles. Wait, hold up. LOVE? You’re gonna use the word LOVE? How much wine did you have, Alicia?! I thought love didn’t mean anything to Alicia anymore. I understand what she means—how could I have thought I wanted to commit to him!?—but the word love feels quite out of place for the situation and especially for this situation for Alicia. The line really should be, “Or why I thought that I wanted to be with him.” Either that, or someone needs to have a serious conversation with Alicia about the fact that there’s this totally radical thing people do where they’re exclusive as they attempt to figure out what they want out of a relationship and if they’re in love and if they want to be together long term. It doesn’t have to be love at this point. It’d be weird if it was. It’d be like what Zach’s saying about Hannah—that is, what Alicia’s laughing at.

“It was a joke. I’m sure it was a joke,” Lucca says.

“I… I don’t know who he is. I… I don’t know anything about him,” Alicia realizes. Yup.

“Then find out about him. I think you’re in his head. He didn’t sound like himself. At least return his calls,” Lucca advises. Hey, Alicia! This is good advice! If you’re interested by not sure, the thing to do is date. You don’t have to decide if he’s going to be your second husband right now.

DETECTIVE GIFFORD IS BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AND LOOK!!!! IT’S DANI!!!!!!!!!!! (Dani is, for those of you who don’t know, Julianna’s stand-in on the show. She sometimes gets to be in the episodes—she was in 4x18 as the massage therapist Kalinda flirted with and 5x22 as one of a couple of associates making out in the LG conference room.)

I love Darkness at Noon. I’m glad to see that it gets a farewell, too. It seems the show is ending, because Dani’s character just shot and killed the lead of Darkness. I’m wondering if, perhaps, it’s already ended, because the TGW characters are ignoring what’s going on in the show, and since they’ve seemed very invested in it in the past, I doubt they’d be so unconcerned with the lead character’s death if they hadn’t already seen the episode.

(For anyone who doesn’t know about my Darkness at Noon obsession, I wrote a ten page paper, for a class, about the show. It will therefore always have a special place in my heart.)

“You know, your mother wanted to drop out of college,” Veronica informs Grace. Grace, Owen, and Veronica are lying on Alicia’s bed, watching Darkness at Noon. “She wanted to go to India for a year,” Veronica continues. Owen, in the background, makes a face of confusion.

“Seriously?!” Grace asks. “Ah, well, it was a different time,” Veronica explains.

“No, she didn’t,” Owen interjects. “Mom, you’re making that up.”

“I’m not making it up,” Veronica insists. “You’re not privy to every conversation between mother and daughter, you know?”

Yeah, um, as someone who finds 99% of what Veronica says about Alicia’s childhood to be misleading at best and flat-out illogical at worst, I’m with Owen here. I’m also taking Owen’s comment to mean that every single thing Veronica has said about Alicia that I didn’t like is a lie. Thanks for giving me the license to reject all the things that don’t fit my personal headcanon, Owen!

But really: most of what Veronica says sounds like it describes herself, not Alicia. The India story feels off to me, for example, for three reasons. First, Veronica tells it like Alicia wanted to drop out—but then she says that Alicia wanted to go for a year. Taking a year off and dropping out are very different things. Maybe at one point Alicia commented she’d like to travel and take a gap year. Maybe she seriously considered it (doubtful). Second, I don’t believe that Alicia would talk with her mother about this, but not with her brother. From everything we know about Alicia’s relationship with Veronica, it would be odd if she went to Veronica first. Third, Veronica probably would’ve encouraged Alicia to go. Alicia feels her mother never liked her. If Alicia had been the bad girl, adventurous, rule-breaking person Veronica loves to tell Grace and Zach she was, Veronica would’ve loved it.  

Jackie enters the room, pissing off Veronica with her presence. “Drinking, I see,” Jackie observes. “Yes. It’s the one way I have of dealing with that jealousy over you having a husband while I have none,” Veronica attempts to say sarcastically.

Veronica, despite her protests, is definitely feeling lonely, jealous, and spiteful. That’s why she feels the need to inform Jackie, at Jackie’s party, that she’s “worrying about Peter and Alicia getting a divorce.”

Veronica has no concern for anyone other than herself. She doesn’t care that this is Jackie’s night (even if Jackie is being passive-aggressive). She doesn’t care that Alicia doesn’t want this information made public, or that it’s not her place to be the one to tell Jackie. Worst of all, she doesn’t care that Grace is right there, in her arms. She chooses to put herself in situations like this and to behave this way. Every day, she chooses to put herself first. She’s not stupid or clueless or incapable of understanding others—she just doesn’t care enough to put in effort. She chooses to get drunk at parties she knows she’d be better off declining invitations for, and chooses to make herself her top priority nine times out of ten. And look where that’s gotten her: all she’s ever done is think of herself, and now she’s miserable.

(Sorry—I’m just frustrated with Veronica. I love her, as a character, but the way she behaves makes me want to scream.)

Veronica doesn’t even stop once she’s said it. She continues to explain (David Lee told her!) even after Grace sits up abruptly. Owen, to his credit, watches his niece carefully and tries to stop his mother.

“Grace, no, I could be wrong,” Veronica calls after Grace as she walks away. I believe the words you’re looking for, Veronica, are, “Grace, I’m sorry.”

LOCKHART, FLORRICK & ASSOCIATES reads the top of a piece of paper that Diane is showing Alicia. Never in my life have I been so happy not to see an Oxford comma. (My url is kind of canon again!)

Alicia wonders what David Lee thinks of the new name. Apparently, he’s cool with the branding because it doesn’t affect his salary. Sounds right. He never even wanted to be a name partner. Diane and Alicia toast to an all-female partnership.

… and then Zach and Grace intrude, demanding answers about the divorce. I’m sure that’s exactly what Diane wants to hear right now. (Perhaps she already knows—if David Lee knows, maybe Diane was in the meeting, too.) A divorce is just wonderful for their branding.

Alicia tries to find a private space to talk to the kids, but she can’t. “Why is everything always secrets in this family?” Zach demands. Excellent question. However, this should probably remain private, because the alternative is publicly humiliating Jackie by making the party all about the divorce and then attracting nasty media coverage of the whole family, coverage that could hurt Peter’s chances of escaping jail time. But I get the frustration.

Alicia doesn’t entertain the idea of having this conversation in public. She walks out into the living room, asks Eli where Peter is, tells a drunk Marissa that it would be “great” if she were to go to law school (then she adds, “Can we talk later?” which strikes me as a nice addition to the scene—even at her most distracted, she doesn’t totally blow Marissa off)

Alicia marches the kids past Kurt and Hannah. Hannah is trying to explain the second amendment to Kurt, which goes over about as well as you’d expect. Kurt excuses himself to get a drink, and I feel like this is the appropriate reaction to almost everything Hannah says.

When Alicia and the kids find a place to talk—the elevator lobby—Hannah tags along. Alicia asks to only talk to her kids, but Zach insists that Hannah should stay. Hannah thanks Zach, but goes back into the party. Good choice. (I’m not giving Hannah enough credit. I think I’m being too judgmental of her.)

“How long ago did you decide?” Grace asks. “A month ago,” Alicia says. “And you’re just now telling us?” Zach wants to know. “We weren’t telling anyone,” Alicia explains. “We’re not ‘anyone’, mom,” Grace says. “You’re right. I’m sorry. We just wanted to get through dad’s trial,” Alicia offers. Good. Apology first (because Grace is right) and then the explanation (because it does make sense to deal with one thing at a time… or, at least, I can see the logic Alicia and Peter were using).

“Is this about Jason?” Grace asks. “Wait, who’s Jason?” Zach wonders. “Her investigator,” Grace explains. “You have an investigator?” Zach asks. “Well, her firm does,” Grace catches him up. “So. This is about him,” Zach says.

“It isn’t,” Alicia says definitively. “But?” Grace insists. “But what?” Alicia asks. “It just sounded like you were gonna say something else,” Grace clarifies. “No, just…” Alicia trails off. “You’re sleeping with him,” Grace states. “That is none of your business,” Alicia reprimands her. Um, no, actually, Alicia, it is very much her business, seeing as how he has a key to the apartment where Grace lives. It breaks my heart that Grace knows about Jason, that Alicia never told her, and that she put the pieces together on her own. The cover-up is always worse than the crime. (Not that sleeping with Jason is a crime, but you know what I mean.)

Zach decides this would be an appropriate time to point out that it’s none of Alicia’s business what he does with Hannah. Partially true. Alicia can’t stop him; he’s an adult. (Didn’t this conversation happen at one of season 1’s family meetings? Alicia said they were always going to be honest, so Grace asked who Will was, and all of a sudden, Alicia could have private things but the kids couldn’t?)

“That’s different,” Alicia says. “How is it different?” Zach demands. “We think you’re making a mistake,” Alicia explains. “You mean as opposed to you sleeping with your investigator?” Zach fires back.

“Okay, this has nothing to do with you. I’m the parent here,” Alicia asserts. “You know what the difference is? I’m getting married, and you’re getting divorced. And I’m the one who’s making the mistake?” Zach says angrily. That doesn’t even make sense, Zach. Sometimes the best advice can come from people who have made mistakes and learned from them.

Bad timing may not exist, but this is not the best moment for Jason to show up. And yet, here he is, at Alicia’s door. “Hi,” he says.

After the break, we learn that he’s there for Eli, not Alicia, though he does also want to talk to Alicia.

Eli is currently a witness for the ketubah signing, which seems like an odd thing for Alicia and the kids to be missing. Marissa is the other witness. “My two Jewish friends,” Jackie jokes.

Congratulations, Jackie and Howard! I hope you two are happy together.

Jason tells Eli that “Peter micromanaged the case.” He went to the crime scene for unknown reasons, questioned all the evidence, vetoed some evidence—important evidence, too. AND the bullets that were in evidence? They went missing after Peter signed in to the crime lab.

Jason asks Eli to get Alicia for him.

Before that can happen, though, Diane receives a call from Canning. Canning wants to create an alliance with Diane (Eli’s lawyer) to protect Eli and Cary. This will keep the spotlight on Peter, Canning explains as Diane eyes Alicia, heading out to the hallway. More spotlight on Peter is not a good thing for Diane.

“This isn’t a good idea,” Alicia says as she finds Jason in the hallway. “Okay. Then let’s go,” Jason says. “I can’t!” Alicia protests. “I just want to talk,” Jason says. “Tomorrow,” Alicia offers. “Tonight,” Jason counters.

They wind up outside, because it’s apparently better to have a conversation on the street where people can see you than in the hallway where no one can hear you. Jason gives Alicia his coat.

“I didn’t handle that well earlier. And then I came back here, and it was awkward, and I know that if you have two awkward moments in a row, that it can be trouble clawing it back,” he says. “What are we clawing back?” Alicia asks. “That thing that I gave you…” Jason starts. “The Mars property?” Alicia says. “Yeah. See, I didn’t know that I was coming here and we were gonna have a serious conversation. It was… it was in my pocket, and it was just supposed to be this, this fun thing. I like space, I like stuff about space,” he clarifies.

“I get it. I’m fine. I better get back,” Alicia replies. “No, wait, please,” Jason adds.

“I don’t like spending more than a year in any one place. I like to be able to drop everything at a moment’s notice and just go,” he tells Alicia. “Then go. No one’s stopping you,” Alicia says. “You are,” Jason informs her. “No, I’m not,” Alicia disagrees. “Yes, you are,” he insists.

“Okay. I think we need to clarify what we’re saying here,” Alicia requests. “I want you, too,” Jason says. Music swells. “You do?” Alicia can’t believe it. “I do,” Jason repeats. “But I am trying to explain to you that I can’t be… stuck.”

“And I would make you feel stuck?” Alicia asks. “No. No, you just have this whole life here. You have beautiful kids, a beautiful place, and a business,” Jason explains. “And you want me to give that up?” Alicia tries to get at what Jason’s saying. “No. No, I am just… I’m bringing up a problem. I’m not saying that there’s a solution,” he says.

“Okay. I’m gonna repeat to you what I think I heard. You want to go somewhere else, and you want me to go with you, but not now, but at some point when you get itchy about staying in one place?” Alicia synthesizes. Jason smiles. Alicia smiles, then says: “Okay. I… I need to think on this.” Then she kisses him. On the street. Outside. Of her apartment. Where the governor. Who is currently on trial. Currently is. WHY?! Is this going to come back to bite her? Remember when Finn walked past the door of her building and it was somehow clear proof he was sleeping with Alicia?

I don’t know what Alicia will say to this offer. On the one hand, Alicia probably wouldn’t love the itinerant life style, and that’s a big risk to take on a new relationship. Alicia would have to give up much more than Jason would for this to work. On the other hand, if there’s ever going to be a time (UGH WHATEVER) when Alicia can decide to leave Chicago, it’s probably now. Both of her kids are going to be in college in the fall. She’ll be divorced. And while she has a business, the ink hasn’t dried yet. Lockhart, Florrick and Associates fell into her lap. She went along with the opportunity because she thought it would work. But maybe she’ll realize it’s not what she wants. It’s a big firm. It’s the same people she’s tried to escape several times. She and Diane sound like a better team in theory than they often are in practice. (I know I made the case for an Alicia/Diane firm in my 7x16 recap, but after thinking about it more and reading some other takes, I’ve realized that what I needed to be making was the case for why that firm would appeal to Alicia, not speculating about whether or not it would work out. I could very easily see Alicia being drawn to the idea and then—okay, I’m thinking of the 7x21 sneak peek—remembering that Diane isn’t always the best person to work with.) If Alicia wants to make another career change, she can do it now.

That said, I don’t actually think Alicia and Jason are going to run off together as the ending of the show.

Eli asks Marissa why she wants to go to law school. “The law is exciting,” Marissa says. “Things move fast.” “Uh, no they don’t. Most of the law is just boring paperwork and meetings,” Eli counters. This is true, but you wouldn’t know it from the kind of law Alicia et al practice. Marissa’s clearly seen too many episodes of TGW. (It’s amazing that I don’t want to be a lawyer, given how much I think I’d enjoy a slow-paced career full of details, paperwork, and meetings.)

Then Marissa’s phone rings, and it’s Mike Tascioni calling for Eli. Tom the dog is sick and so Mike can’t be Peter’s lawyer. Bye, Mike.

Diane walks by at that moment to talk to Eli about teaming up with Cary, but before she can ask his opinion on that, Eli asks her to be Peter’s lawyer. “See, things do move fast,” Marissa comments.

We don’t get an answer. Instead, we cut to Eli walking into Alicia’s office to talk to Peter. Eli asks Peter about the details of the case against him. Peter wants to know if this is from Jason. (And by wants to know, I mean “sneers at the idea of Jason being hired as Eli’s investigator.”)

But Peter does provide answers. He vetoed the blood spatter because it was compromised by the lab tech—he saw it at the crime scene. And why was he at the crime scene? Because he knew a high profile case would be scrutinized. And why did the bullets leave the crime lab? Because Peter didn’t want the lab tech, who had a history of screwing up, to taint those, too. So he took them to… none other than Kurt McVeigh.

Cut to Kurt, in the kitchen, with Diane. He’s eating pasta. “God, I like watching you. Eat. Shoot. Just stand,” Diane flirts. “Good thing I like being watched,” Kurt flirts back. Diane laughs and kisses him. Kurt wants to leave; Diane says they’ll stay for ten more minutes. (This is at the 33 minute mark in the episode, which is 43 minutes. Hehe.)

Alicia walks back into the party, shaken from her conversation with Jason. She observes Diane and Kurt looking flirty and happy. Alicia’s a McHart shipper just like the rest of us!

Alicia hides away in her bedroom, watching Darkness at Noon. Detective Gifford is monologuing as he bleeds out: “I did what I had to do. I killed people that needed killing. I know. I know not, not you. I’m sorry.” (That last bit is directed at an angelic looking blonde woman.)

Hannah exits the bathroom as Alicia’s watching. “I told him to call ahead,” Hannah tells Alicia apologetically. Alicia responds with “excuse me?” “I told Zach he should call ahead, but he wanted to surprise you. You hate me, don’t you?” Hannah worries. “No,” Alicia assures her, moving closer. “We are in love,” Hannah says. “I know. We’re just worried that things are moving too fast. How long have you known each other?” Alicia asks. “A year,” Hannah replies. “Do you really think that’s long enough to make the biggest commitment of your life?” Alicia asks.

“How long did you know each other before you got married?” Hannah wants to know. “Three years,” Alicia tells her. (That sounds about right. I’m sure if you asked Veronica, the story would be that Alicia and Peter dated for three months.) “And now you’re divorcing,” Hannah says. I don’t think this counterargument is as good of a counterargument as you think it is.

“Yes. And that’s why I’m concerned. I don’t want Zach, or you, to go through what I am,” Alicia explains kindly.

“But that’s the thing. We won’t,” Hannah insists. “Well, you don’t know that,” Alicia replies. (I agree.) “No, I mean, we won’t go through all the… mess. It’s just marriage. My parents divorced. But they still see each other. They still love each other. But they see other people too. Marriage should work for us, not us for marriage. If Zach doesn’t like France, he can leave me. Come back home. Go to school. If he meets someone else he loves more, then why should I trap him? Marriage should be fun; it shouldn’t be this weight, this death knell,” Hannah explains. To each their own. I’d love to know if Hannah still feels this way after she’s been in a marriage. Maybe she will. Maybe Zach will too.

“Well… if it isn’t permanent, why get married at all?” Alicia asks. (Filed under things that aren’t the slightest bit surprising: Alicia decided to get married because she liked the permanence of it.)

“Taxes,” Hannah replies. Are your taxes really that complicated right now that you need to get married? And does Zach, as an unemployed nineteen year old whose parents probably take care of his taxes, share that answer? Alicia nods and accepts the answer as a place to stop the conversation.

On the TV, Detective Gifford is now confessing his sins to a priest. Darkness at Noon seems like bundles of fun.

“Peter can explain everything,” Eli happily informs Jason. “I’m sure he can,” Jason says, unimpressed. Eli explains most of the evidence, but stops to ask Jason if his feelings for Alicia are clouding his judgment. Jason says to fire him if he’s that concerned, so Eli does.

Jason goes back to the lab tech anyway, and tells her she’s lying (and it seems like she is). I don’t know if Peter is innocent or guilty, but this episode seems to say he’s innocent. And that’s what I want the truth to be.

Canning phones Alicia next. He wants to know if Peter is going to be loyal to Cary, his former deputy, in this matter. Canning then suggests that Peter is going to try to drag Alicia into this, which will probably happen somehow because it’s TGW but I really don’t see how Alicia could have tampered with evidence. Somehow, the prosecutor could turn the relationship with Lloyd Garber around onto Alicia (which would hurt… how? I don’t follow. What would it matter if Alicia was friendly with Lloyd Garber? Did anyone understand this? What am I missing?) (Is the point that Alicia’s reputation could take a hit if she’s perceived as being in on the conspiracy?)

At any rate, Alicia is all, “Goodbye, Mr. Canning,” and hangs up on him when he suggests giving Peter up. Why would she do that? That would be perjuring herself. She has no way of giving Peter up. She doesn’t know the facts of the case! I DON’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING.

Now Detective Gifford is talking to God, or possibly just the sky. “And there’s the last joke. Where are you, huh? Where!”

“Okay, this is it. Goodnight,” Marissa says to Alicia, giving her a hug. “I didn’t get to talk to you all night. Tell me why I should be a lawyer in three words or less,” Marissa requests. “You’re smart,” Alicia says. Awwwwww.

Eli and Alicia agree that they really need to talk. Then Marissa jumps back in with a “this is in case we die tomorrow” hug. “Okay… let’s not die tomorrow,” Alicia responds. When Marissa walks away, Alicia makes a drinking motion to Eli, who nods. Awwww, seems Marissa’s had a bit too much. At any rate, nice to see Eli and Alicia having a little adult-to-adult moment, since they’re the only two series regulars that have kids. I wonder if this is Marissa’s last appearance of the series.

Diane says goodbye—“see you at work,” rather—next. “Firm of the Amazons,” Alicia jokes.

Kurt thanks her for the party, and Alicia replies by saying that “maybe one day you can teach me how to be happy.” Awwwwwwwwwwwww. This sequence is making me so emotional.

Veronica is next. “I’ve been drinking,” she says. “I can see that,” Alicia comments. “Oh, you’re such a good daughter. I love you,” Veronica gushes. “I love you too,” Alicia says. “And I’m glad you’re leaving him and going with the hunk,” Veronica says, because she wouldn’t be Veronica without a comment like that. “Okay, mom, thanks,” Alicia replies.

“I just want you to be happy,” Veronica cries drunkenly. “Is that wrong? Where’s Owen?” she continues as Owen walks over to where Alicia and Veronica are standing. “I want you both to be happy,” Veronica repeats. “You’ll get her home safe?” Alicia asks Owen. “Of course,” Owen assures her. “I love you.” “I love you, too,” Alicia says.

“And I love you both,” Veronica says, embracing both of her children. “It’s the only good thing about me.” (I don’t want to be mean and say that’s true, but…)

I’m so sad. This isn’t a particularly sad moment, but it’s the last time we’ll see Veronica and Owen, and that makes me sad. Alicia’s just saying goodbye for the night. But we’re saying goodbye forever. I want more. I want to know about Alicia’s dad. I want to know more things (real things!) about Alicia’s childhood. I want more family moments. But there won’t be any more because this show is ending. Ugh. (Maybe they’ll show up again in the finale? Doubtful, but possible!)

Now it’s Jackie’s turn. She thanks Alicia for the beautiful party, and Alicia tells Jackie she’s glad she’s happy. “But I won’t be seeing you again,” Jackie feels the need to say. “Why not?” Alicia wonders. “You’re divorcing my son. And I just wanted you to know we’re more alike than not,” Jackie cautions. They probably will see each other again, unless Jackie plans not to attend Grace’s graduation or any office parties Howard has to go to, but the second thing Jackie says is more interesting. This is the second party at the Florrick apartment where Jackie’s drawn a parallel between her and Alicia (the first is in 1x22). There are many ways in which Alicia and Jackie differ, but they’re both dedicated to their families (in more or less traditional ways) and they both honor their commitments.

Zach is up next. Their interaction is pleasant, considering how the night started off. “Be good, please,” Alicia whispers to Zach as she hugs him tightly. There’s probably something to say about Alicia’s last words to her son (on the show) being “be good.”

“I don’t want to die! God! Mother! I’m sorry!” Detective Gifford screams on the TV. Peter’s in Alicia’s room, taking a call, when Alicia opens the door with wine. (How much do y’all drink!?)

“Even if I were guilty, I’d fight that,” Peter says on the phone, referring to a plea bargain. He hangs up and immediately wonders if he missed Zach. The answer is yes, but he’s going to phone Peter tomorrow. And yeah, he’s going to France. “I’ll talk to him,” Peter sighs. Alicia’s calmer now. “No, don’t. It’s his mistake. Let him make it,” she says. Yup. That’s about all she can do, and I’m glad she realized that. She could push him away, or she could express her opinion, let him do his own thing, and then make sure she’s there for him when it all comes crashing down. Peter sees the wisdom in Alicia’s new approach.

“You look exhausted. I’ll be out of your hair in a second,” he comments. “Don’t worry. All I have is a kitchen full of dirty dishes,” she says.

Peter sits down on the bed, so close it feels intimate, and raises his glass. “What are we toasting to?” he asks. “Our divorce,” Alicia replies.

They toast, then focus on the tv screen. Gifford is about to die. “Goodbye. I’ll miss you,” he says as his eyes close.

Alicia and Peter watch the TV, then look away. I doubt they’re thinking of Detective Gifford, though the words “goodbye; I’ll miss you” do fit their situation as well. This episode had Alicia and Peter at their best just as they’re finally splitting up for real. That has to remind both of them of how great they can be as a team. You know: intellectual peers and partners*.

*how they’re described in the script for the flashback at the party in 1x03.

[florrickandassociates]

TGW Thoughts: 7x19-- Landing

Thoughts on 7x19 under the cut...

Is this our last COTW ever? Please tell me this is our last COTW ever. I’m probably going to say very little about it. It’s the NSA boys, back for another convoluted plot that boils down to goat videos, lots of violations of privacy and huge amounts of overreach, and courtroom maneuvering. Here are the main takeaways: 1) The TGW writers think all of this surveillance, most of which is irrelevant to the actual goals of the program, is absurd and 2) The TGW writers really enjoy writing for the NSA boys. There. Now I can just say “Case stuff happens” throughout the episode and save myself some time!

Oh, point #3: Canada is different from the U.S.! But some things are the same!

“No more goats. We’re done with goats,” says one of the NSA boys. Pleaseeeeeee??? Can we be done with goats?!

2 minutes and 43 seconds and we finally get Alicia. And she’s wearing red! Hi!

“Why would I ever get out of bed?” she says to Jason, who is sitting shirtless in her bed, reading the newspaper. He’s no longer on the side that’s usually hers—good. She’s fully dressed, but she sits down to kiss him before she leaves for work.

“Your phone… has been ringing,” Jason informs her. “I’m throwing it away,” Alicia says. I think on Zach’s next visit home, he needs to show her where Do Not Disturb is on her phone. She’d like it a lot.

Then Alicia gets more serious—hesitant, even. “I need to tell you something,” she declares. “You killed a man in Reno,” Jason jokes, adding some levity. “Yeah. Lucca told you?” Alicia plays along. “Hey, we all make mistakes,” Jason responds.

“So… I don’t want you to get worried about this because it has nothing to do with you,” Alicia explains. “What doesn’t?” Jason asks. “This thing. That I’m going to tell you,” Alicia clarifies by stalling. “I was gonna do it anyway. Okay. So that’s a bad preamble. I should’ve just said it. Now you’re all braced. Here. Unbrace yourself.” Alicia wiggles Jason’s arms.

Then she chickens out: “Nope. We’ll talk later. This was stupid.” He doesn’t let her out of it. “What, Alicia?” He asks. (Conversation!!!!! Not avoiding conversation!!!! Yay!!)

She pauses, sits back down. “I’m getting divorced.” Jason doesn’t reply, so she goes back to what she was saying before: “Okay, I shouldn’t have said anything, because it has nothing to do with you. I just didn’t want you to hear about it and think that I… was… you know…”

Jason pushes her to explain: “No. I don’t know.”

Alicia sighs. “Expecting something from this,” she explains. “Makes sense,” Jason replies. “Okay. I just…” Alicia tries to clarify further, but her phone rings. Jason encourages her to answer and she asks him to wait where he is.

I’m not sure what Alicia and Jason want here. I think both of them, outwardly, want to just keep things casual. Alicia doesn’t want to scare Jason off by asking for a commitment (hell, she is just starting to get out of a marriage—she’s probably not in search of a commitment anyway!), and Jason… well, that’s where it gets trickier for me. I’ll get back to this later, but there are two potential reads of Jason here. The first, which is what felt intuitive to me until I realized I have almost no evidence to support it (the best I have is that his behavior towards her indicates more than just sex, but it could just be sex + friendship, and that he seemed like he was going to ask Alicia to go steady in 7x17, which is just an assumption because she didn’t let him say what he was going to say), is that Jason doesn’t want to get caught up in a relationship but is falling for Alicia, so he doesn’t really love all of Alicia’s assertions that their relationship is just sex, but he also doesn’t want to overcomplicate his life by trying to make it anything else. The second is that Jason doesn’t want a relationship at all, so hearing Alicia say something that sounds so false (I just decided to divorce my husband after he confronted you! Nothing to do with you at all!) worries him because he just wants to keep it casual.

I wrote about this last week and I’ll get back to it at the end of the episode, but: Alicia’s telling the truth when she says her decision to divorce isn’t about Jason. Peter’s actions towards him may have led her to finally make that decision, but it truly was a long time coming. Further, it’s not a decision Alicia made because she wanted to commit to Jason. She made the decision because she realized that being married was interfering with her ability to live her life, and that the life she wanted to live did not include being Peter’s wife. This is not the same as wanting to be in a relationship with Jason, even though both statements can be true at the same time. They’re separate but related thoughts, and for once, I think it makes sense for Alicia to make the distinction. (Especially since she isn’t thinking of Jason as her next relationship when she asks for the divorce.)

(There are all of these distinctions here that make sense in my head that I’m not sure I’m describing well. The big ones are: the distinction between the decision Alicia made and the moment that most directly led her to make that decision, the distinction between not wanting to be with Peter and wanting to be with Jason, and the distinction between where Alicia and Jason are now—where they believe they are now—and where they seem to be headed.)

Alicia is dressed at Peak Alicia: her red jacket not only has a zipper down the front, but it also has zippers on the sleeves.

Call #1 is from Dellinger; Call #2 is Eli phoning on an intern’s cell so Alicia will pick up. “Peter is being arrested,” Eli whisper-yells. He’s trying to manage appearances. But Alicia can’t help, because she has to go to Toronto because of the COTW. Eli doesn’t take the news well, and before he can convince Alicia to postpone her trip (or send someone else), Mike and Tom the Dog pop out of Eli’s office to let Eli know the arrest will take place the next day.

Meanwhile, Jason gets out of bed, goes into the bathroom, and closes the door. No time for talking…

Discussion of when Peter’s arrest will happen, etc. Being able to control the appearances is some sort of special privilege extended to Peter, but Connor Fox doesn’t like it. He pretends to, lulling Eli and Mike into a false sense of security.

Alicia and Lucca are now in Canada! Lucca doesn’t like Canada because it’s too clean, which makes her want to litter. Alicia’s totally spacing out, though, as they ride up the escalator. She’s preoccupied with thoughts of Jason.

“Do you still talk to Jason?” Alicia ventures. “Do I? Yeah,” Lucca responds. “He’s good, right? He’s fine with things?” Alicia wonders. “Yeah. He likes work, he likes the consistent money… or is that what you’re asking?” Lucca says perceptively. “Yeah. Yeah,” Alicia backs out of the conversation as they reach the top of the escalator.

Case stuff happens, and Alicia phones Diane to ask who knows the most about international law. Apparently it was Cary. Who knew?! (Is there any precedent for this? Possibly 3x06?)

Diane is at home, which is awesome!

She suggests Alicia talk to Jason. Hah. Diane asks if Alicia knew Jason used to be a lawyer and if she wants her to phone Jason. Hahahahahaha. Someone’s in the dark on this one…

KURT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YAY KURT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Welcome to the Appeared In Every Season Club!)

Everything’s cute and fun in McHart land until Kurt says, “Let’s talk” in a serious voice, freaking Diane out.

“We’ve been married now for three years, and I’ve seen you, maybe, 98 days over that time,” Kurt starts. What? Somehow this makes complete sense and no sense at all at the same time. It’s always been a part of their relationship that they live separate lives, but it would’ve been nice to have some indication that they were seeing each other so irregularly even after tying the knot.

Kurt’s big news is that he’s selling his business so he and Diane can actually live together. AWWWWWWWW. I love these two so fucking much.

“You bastard,” Diane exhales, because she was bracing herself for the worst. She gives Kurt a little slap on the back.

(Odd little parallel between Diane THINKING Kurt wants a divorce after a “let’s talk” and Jason hearing that Alicia IS GETTING a divorce after a “let’s talk”-type phrase.)

“I don’t [want a divorce],” Kurt reassures Diane. “Well, did you tell your face?!” she exclaims. BWAHAHA. You two. “You can’t use the same expression for everything!”

Enthusiastic making out (…) ensues. So enthusiastic, in fact, that Diane and Kurt bang teeth because they can’t wait to be all over each other. I love these two. Did I say that already?

Kurt also asks Diane to review the contracts on the sale of his business.

Sparky’s phone rings—Alicia. He hesitates before picking up.

Alicia paces as she’s on the phone. She also says that Canada is clean, picking up Lucca’s word. She goes right into the legal stuff with Jason.

There’s a little bit of flirty banter concerning Jason bringing mushrooms across the border once. Mushrooms remind me of Cary. (Mushrooms high on Caryyyyyyyyyyy.) Speaking of Cary, his blue line stops wall art is still at LG, right behind Jason. Sad.

THE NSA IS LISTENING OMG. They’re using what they’re hearing to help with their trial strategy and they know way too much about Alicia’s personal life, etc. 

Lucca says Alicia can go home for the night. Alicia thanks her and takes her up on the offer because Peter’s having issues.

Issues he’s dealing with from Alicia’s apartment. He’s bouncing a little—his fear is palpable. Mike goes over strategy with him: he’ll be arrested at noon the following day. Eli’s already arranged a press conference, where Peter will be able to call this a “witch hunt.”

Alicia walks in the door. “Alicia, good. Good. Come in,” Eli says. “To my house?” Alicia replies. Bwahaha.

Sidenote: Michelle King told The Advocate on the Tribeca Film Festival red carpet (video is on Facebook) that the one think she and Robert took from the TGW set was the bowl that Alicia always drops her keys in. This little tidbit made me very happy, since I have an attachment to that bowl (and that scene in 5x17 where she walks right past it with her keys because she’s so out of it). The first thing I bought to decorate the room in my current place was a bowl to drop my keys in every day, and it was because of Alicia. (Shush, I know this is a totally normal thing to do, but I’m going to pretend it’s just an Alicia thing.)

Eli explains why they’re at Alicia’s: there were cameras outside of Peter’s place.

Peter asks how Toronto was. “Complicated, but clean,” Alicia replies. I love that she stole Lucca’s answer and adopted it as the proper response to “How is Canada?”  

Alicia asks Peter how he is. His reply? “Anxious.” Yup.

Then Alicia waves around a bottle of tequila. Only Peter takes her up on the offer.

Mike asks Alicia how she’d feel about the kids joining her at a press conference. Eli tries to stop Mike, but Alicia’s answer is a distracted, “Sure, when?” That’s new (though I suppose they were both heavily involved with the campaign in 7x11. That was just more positive).

“You… don’t mind the kids being in front of the cameras?” Eli checks to make sure. “No… should I?” Alicia responds. “It’s just you’ve always minded before… whenever I’ve asked,” Eli explains. “Things have changed. Their dad’s in trouble,” Alicia reasons. And they’re both adults.

But Peter puts his foot down: “I’d rather they didn’t do that. Zach’s in college. Grace is gonna be there soon. I want them to focus on that.” Awww. Alicia processes that; understands.

The doorbell rings. Oh no! Who has let themselves up to the ninth floor this time?! “Is Grace home?” Alicia worries. “No, she’s at Jackie’s,” Peter explains. Shit. (I mean, yay that Grace is spending time with her grandmother, but not yay that it’s someone other than a Florrick at the door.)

Alicia marches up to the door and opens it. It’s AUSA Fox with a bunch of agents, there to arrest Peter and not giving a damn about appearances (or, rather, caring a lot about making Peter look bad). Alicia’s door has a peephole. Why does she never use it? In this case it doesn’t matter—she’ll have to open the door anyway—but it’s there for a reason!

Eli expositions a bit, explaining what’s going on and the optics of this arrest (which AUSA Fox has arranged for a film crew to cover). Eh. Exposition is fine, as long as the other characters don’t have to behave like idiots for it to happen. (What’s up, season 6 Alicia?!)

Alicia watches Peter’s arrest, looking for something to do to help. (And yes, there’s an editing mistake/trick here, but I already talked about that in a separate post.) She leaps into action, rummaging through her closet for a jacket and tie for Peter to wear so the visual won’t be as embarrassing as AUSA Fox wants.

“No, Mrs. Florrick, this is not a photo-op,” says AUSA Fox. Incorrect. What he means to say is, “this is not your photo op; it’s MINE!” He absolutely wants photos to be taken—that’s why he phoned the camera crew. “You will not embarrass my husband,” Alicia hisses, continuing to tie Peter’s tie. Awww. She’s fixing his appearance again—like with the lint in Pilot, only purposeful and without any ambivalence this time. (I suspect we may get a more direct parallel to the lint before the end of the season…)

So. I like Alicia being supportive of Peter. I think it makes sense, given what we know about their relationship, their shared lives (20+ years and two kids!), and mutual respect for each other. But I wish two things. First, that this plot would disappear. I get the full circle thing. I’m trying to like it. I still can’t help but feel that this time would be better spent on something else. It makes sense to close the show out by coming full circle, but it also feels—at least right now—like there’s a trade-off between giving the characters the ending the show’s been building towards and maneuvering so that the plot feels final. In some ways, this is like giving Alicia a test—how will she react to a similar circumstance seven years later?—and I appreciate that. In others, it feels like an interruption. So, I guess my question is: does education boil down to passing your final exam or applying the skills you’ve learned in a real world setting when no one’s prompting you to do anything? I would say the latter, but the former is the more coherent narrative. (I feel like I made a different version of this analogy in an earlier recap; forgive me if I used it differently then!)

Second, that if this plot has to be what the writers have been building towards, that A/P had received more consistent development throughout the series. Alicia/Peter scenes are almost always written and acted incredibly well, but there are often periods where the marriage is ignored entirely. This plot is much stronger if we know where Alicia and Peter stand going into it. And, really, we should know that: in theory, season 7 featured a campaign arc, so Alicia was standing by Peter’s side, and Alicia just asked for a divorce, indicating that she’s ready to let go of the marriage. Yet, neither of these things were explored deeply enough. How did Alicia feel about supporting Peter earlier in the season? Did she enjoy it? How often did they interact? Did she find it rewarding? Or did she find it to be a burden she wanted to free herself from? Was her support something she gave because she felt obligated to, because she thought it would be nice to help, or because she was going through the motions in accordance with their agreement from 5x17? There are nice moments in 7x06 and 7x11 which suggest that Alicia—even with the voicemail, a lot of regret, and some lingering anger—still supports Peter as a friend and as a person she’s known (and loved) for a long time. But there’s also a lot of nothing. What happens after 7x11? Why wasn’t there more about the campaign? Why is it such an easy decision for her to tie herself to Peter and help in this moment when she’s so close to breaking free of the marriage? The way these events are playing out doesn’t need to change. Alicia supporting Peter, wanting to divorce, and still coming to his aid one last time makes sense to me. But it’d be a much stronger narrative if it emerged out of a season that had emphasized, not occasionally hinted at, the camaraderie between Alicia and Peter. And also if there hadn’t been a lack of A/P scenes between the nice moment at the end of 7x11 and “I want a divorce” in 7x18.  

“Hey. We’ll handle this,” Alicia reassures Peter. I swear she said “we’ve been through worse” in the promo… (Which reminds me: A big distinction between this scandal and the first one is that this one is not about sex, and that changes Alicia’s role.)

Alicia walks with Peter outside—she’s in the press photos; she’s tied her image to his. That’s huge, especially since she just became name partner of a firm. (I don’t think she realizes, at this point in time, what she’s done.)

I love what they’ve done to the credits. The action on screen blends into the title credits, showing us the updated image of Alicia playing Good Wife. We’ve seen her step into the spotlight many (at this point, many, many) times throughout the series, but this is another scandal in which she has to play the role of supportive spouse. The other moments have been triumphant; this is anything but. (Notably, the other public scandal—which was hers, not Peter’s—also affected the title credits in a similar way. As Alicia’s leaked dirty emails made their way into the press, they also made their way into the credits of 6x18.)

The next day, Mike and Eli watch the press coverage. Mike wants to hire an investigator to figure out what AUSA Fox has on Peter. (Who will he choose?! So suspenseful!) (Obviously it will be Jason.)

Lucca’s also watching coverage of Peter’s arrest. “I didn’t think you were coming,” she says to Alicia, gesturing to the newsfootage on her iPad screen, when Alicia walks in. Case stuff happens.

Diane and David Lee are ALSO watching the coverage. It’s taken seven years but finally the show has acknowledged that the media coverage is pervasive! (Okay, they’ve done this before, but showing seven characters in three different locations reacting to the same news report feels more pointed and better than usual.) “Is this good publicity or bad?” David asks. “We should call the clients,” Diane worries. David explains why we shouldn’t worry about this yet. (He explains why clients won’t be worried at this stage, but it’s also a handy explanation for why we aren’t yet dealing with the ramifications of the arrest on the firm. Somehow this makes me want to nitpick season 6 and how detached the SA plot was all over again.) The clients won’t care, he notes, unless Peter goes down.

And with that, the DLs begin to talk about other matters… namely, that Kurt is undervaluing his business. By a lot. Diane thinks that either Kurt doesn’t know, or he wants out fast. I personally find it hard to believe that Kurt wouldn’t know how much his equipment was worth, but if Diane believes that’s a plausible explanation, sure. Diane doesn’t want to tell Kurt (who’s a “proud man”) that he’s selling himself short, so David suggests that she negotiate directly with the buyer.

More coverage! Alicia is calling AUSA Fox’s allegations a “witch hunt” when Mike turns the TV off to meet with Jason. Jason tries to back out of taking the job, but Mike insists. Jason wants Mike to talk to Peter and get him to sign off; Mike says that’s fine but Jason will need to start now because they’re under a time crunch. Jason glances at Alicia on the TV and agrees.

Case stuff happens. There’s a Canadian version of the NSA involved now.

Jason meets with Cary about the crime Peter’s being accused of committing. I am now going to explain what the charges against Peter are and where they’re coming from, because I’ve seen a lot of confusion over this. The current controversy is about Peter being in the pocket of a campaign donor, Lloyd Garber. The story AUSA Fox wants the jury to believe is that, when Garber’s son (love child?) was accused of murdering his girlfriend, Peter—who was, at the time of this murder, the State’s Attorney—engineered a mistrial as a favor to Garber. Cary is involved because he was an ASA at the time, but Matan was the lead prosecutor on the case. We don’t know if Peter is guilty or not. The son of the donor is named Richard Locke, so if you hear “Locke,” it’s in reference to him/the name of the case.

Additionally, as we learn from this scene, the mistrial was declared because some ballistics evidence went missing. Cary blames the crime lab’s incompetence, but others blame the prosecutor (so: the SA’s office). After the mistrial, Locke couldn’t be retried because of double jeopardy.

Cary’s also a little evasive when talking to Jason, saying that “people change” (I’m not sure who he’s referring to or if he’s implying that the story he’s telling here may not be how he tells it on the stand), and Jason realizes that Peter may have problems if and when Cary’s called to the stand.

Jason recaps for Mike. “Inept, incompetent, and sloppy were the words he used [to describe the lab tech],” Jason explains. “What’s the difference between inept and incompetent?” Mike follows up, because that matters in his mind. “About six letters,” Jason replies. (Exactly six letters.) “That is both correct and accurate,” Mike replies, making me laugh out loud. Jason also warns Mike that Cary may be testifying.

Eli walks in and panics at the sight of Jason, because he knows about Jalicia. Are we calling it Jalicia? I hope we’re not calling it Jalicia. Why did I just call it Jalicia? Mike is all “but I have free rein to hire who I want” and Eli looks at him and goes, “No one has free rein.” ACCURATE.

Diane is meeting with PGT Ballistics, the firm that’s going to buy Kurt’s business. PGT turns out to just be one woman, a young blonde named Ivy Lynn. I’m kidding. Her name on this show is Holly Westfall. (Ivy was the name of the actress, Megan Hilty’s, character on Smash. Smash was a disaster of a show but Ivy—or at least her musical performances—were stellar. I highly recommend doing a YouTube search for “They Just Keep Moving the Line” (which you’ll notice was filmed in the same space as the gala in 2x04/2x05 of TGW).) (#TEAMIVY forever.)

Diane is instantly… annoyed? Jealous? Surprised? By Holly’s presence, and gets more ticked off as Holly continues to speak about being one of Kurt’s former students and a “friendly competitor.” She is being a bit obnoxious (was it really necessary to say that you were Kurt’s favorite?) (Do you know who Diane is?!)

What’s not clear to me is whether Holly is being manipulative or if she’s just clueless. Diane cuts her off before she can say if it’s Kurt who suggested the price or if she indicated interest and a price range. And that matters, at least to me, because there’s a big difference between Kurt giving a discount to a friend (who happens to be a perky young blonde) and a perky young blonde Nancy Croziering her way into a good business deal.

Because I’m seriously not sure what Holly did, other than be young blonde and bubbly, to warrant Diane telling her to go fuck herself (in those words!!) about 75 seconds into negotiations. Am I supposed to root for Diane here and just assume that because Holly is pretty she must be manipulating men with her looks? Or was I supposed to get from that scene that Holly is manipulative and knows it and Diane’s just cutting to the chase?

LOL at Diane’s anger and David Lee’s uncertainty in the reaction shot after Holly storms out.

One of the other NSA dudes is meeting Alicia at the airport. He’s really excited, because he’s been listening to her life story for years and as we all know, it’s really engaging! He apparently doesn’t care about how creepy it is that he’s been listening to her private calls without her knowledge, and starts talking about how she’s taller than he thought (Alicia is pretty tall; she must be like 5’9” in heels) and asking how Zach’s doing and wondering if Grace has picked a college yet.

Alicia says yes to that last thing (presumably) but we don’t get to hear where Grace is going to college and this scene is therefore a failure. (No, it’s not. But I really want to know where Grace is going, and please let it be somewhere other than Georgetown… though Georgetown would make sense for Grace since it’s where her family seems to go for school.)

Case stuff happens.

And now we’re talking about the case from 7x15 (the secret military panel) and the camera pushes in on Alicia as she realizes that this might just come back to her. And it turns out that Dellinger was the leak (that Captain Hicks was accused of, the one I thought was meant to be a conspiracy to get a no vote off the panel!)!

Alicia whispers into Dellinger’s ear angrily. He was the leak. And Captain Hicks lost his job over it. (I love Alicia defending Captain Hicks.) (I just really like Captain Hicks, okay?) And Alicia has no time for Dellinger’s idealism when she’s familiar with its consequences.

Alicia tries to get Captain Hicks cleared of any wrongdoing, but she’s in a tough position, since she technically can’t talk about that panel, which means the government can go ahead and blame both Dellinger and Hicks for the same leak and she can’t do anything about it. It’s been four seasons since Alicia said, in 3x19, that she was “banging her head against a bureaucratic wall,” but damn, it’s still so true.

Shock! Peter doesn’t want Jason to work for him. Eli protests, so Peter tells him about the divorce. Eli closes the door. “You didn’t know?” Peter asks. “No,” Eli says. “Did you explain to her how that would look?” Wrong question, dude.

“We’re putting it in place now. We won’t activate it until after the trial,” Peter explains. “Well, that’s good,” Eli responds. “Yes, I’m thrilled,” Peter remarks sarcastically, at which point Eli remembers that there are actual people with actual emotions involved in this and that not everything is about optics. (I wonder if Eli’s also realizing that he played a role in setting this chain of events in motion.) “Oh. Peter. I’m sorry,” Eli sympathizes. “I truly am.”

I do feel bad for Peter. He’s going through a lot now.

Case stuff happens. Alicia finds out that the NSA has been listening to all of her conversations, even when she wasn’t on the phone. “I’m thinking they’ve been listening to me for months. To everything. To Jason,” Alicia worries to Lucca after court. How much do we need to worry about this, as viewers? This could either go nowhere or cause lots of problems for Alicia and Peter. Lucca is really worried about Dellinger being guilty—she opposes his actions and thinks he committed treason, and she has some qualms about representing him.

Case stuff happens.

Diane and Kurt talk before bed. “I have faults,” Diane begins. “I’m easily mesmerized by who use multi-syllabled words and, um, men who can discuss Tolstoy.” “You never told me that,” Kurt replies, unsure where this is going. “Yes, because I don’t like my failings,” Diane admits. “But in the middle of the night, when I review my day, I know if a man has quoted Tolstoy to me, I would be more likely to cut him a break.” “I’m disappointed in you,” Kurt jokes.

“I tell you this so we can now discuss your failings,” Diane says. Is this story really meant to be the equivalent of, “you like sexy young blonde women”? Ok! “You are easily swayed by pretty young blonde Republicans,” Diane informs Kurt. Kurt doubts he undervalued his company so much, but Diane insists she’s right. And she’ll sell his company for him, and then put $500,000 in a fund for Kurt to hire Republican strippers.

Kurt does not take well to this. And then Diane gets dismissive of the way Holly dresses and… I dunno. I really don’t know if I’m supposed to think Holly intentionally manipulated Kurt or if Diane is being dismissive of a woman she perceives as coasting on looks, or possibly both.

Alicia and Peter sit in Peter’s office, talking. Alicia asks how Peter’s doing—better than he thought he would be. Alicia reassures him that the Sun Times says it’s a witch hunt. “And you looked good,” Alicia adds. There’s no real reason for this meeting to be happening unless Alicia wants to support Peter. No one is shoving them together; there are no cameras around. She wants to be there for him.

Peter asks Alicia how her case is going and says something about “mother’s party,” setting up next week’s episode.

“Connor Fox sent over a plea bargain,” Peter says next. (I’m going to guess he asked Alicia to come over so he could tell her this, and she readily agreed.) Alicia calls this a good sign, until she hears what the offer is: three years in prison.

And then she freezes. “Oh, my God.” She asks what Mike has to say, and the news isn’t good there, either: he says Connor has a case. “Oh, my God,” Alicia exclaims again.

It’s interesting to me that Peter’s guilt/innocence hasn’t been a topic of conversation yet. I don’t know if he’s guilty or innocent—wouldn’t shock me either way, though I hope he’s innocent (not because I don’t believe he’d engage in a quid pro quo like this, but because I think it makes it very easy to reduce the story to “Peter was scum Alicia needed to divorce from the start” if he’s corrupt). But what’s more important is that the show isn’t yet making an issue of that question. Alicia just assumes this is a witch hunt, like all the other accusations have been. (Except the voter fraud, but Peter had no knowledge of the planning for that, and I think that makes it more defensible in Alicia’s eyes.) It doesn’t really occur to her to do anything other than fight for Peter. Even after she hears that they have a case against him, she doesn’t ask if he’s guilty or not. But that’s not the point I want to make right now: instead, I want to note that this scene answers some of my questions from earlier. I wondered, at the end of the last episode, and at the start of this one, why Alicia would tie herself to Peter and risk ruining her own image. I no longer wonder that. Alicia tied herself to Peter because she didn’t see it as a risk—this would all go away, just like all the other things did. She’d be fine. His image would take a momentary hit and then everything would go back to the way it was before. She didn’t realize she had something to lose, and she cared about Peter as a person and the father of her children too much to assume the worst.

“So we’re right back where we started, huh?” Peter asks. Alicia nods and the two sit in silent disbelief. I think I’ve already made it pretty clear that this Everything Comes Full Circle arc isn’t my favorite, but now I think I’ve figured out the two main reasons I don’t find it that powerful (even though, yeah, this line is really powerful and I’m totally going to be moved by all the other parallels).

1) We did this in season six. The scandal. The press conference. The hand-holding. The Alicia/Peter team. We did this. Hell, 6x20 was even originally called The End, (not The Deconstruction) and I praised it to no end for that original title. It wasn’t even a season finale! It wasn’t the end of anything for the show, but it was the end of a stage of Alicia’s life. Titling 6x20 The End was like doubling down on TGW’s commitment to showing, as the Kings wrote in their letter to fans after Will’s death, “that drama isn’t in the event; it’s in the aftermath of the event.” We came full circle with one season and twenty two episodes to go. And I loved it. I loved how committed season 6 was to showing Alicia’s arc, to showing Alicia finding herself and going through an identity crisis and spinning around in circles and then finding her footing. I loved the use of the parallel, the commitment to developing Alicia and Peter’s relationship (even if that meant they were fighting every other episode, at least we knew where they stood), watching Peter decide he valued being an effective leader (with a Good Wife) more than pursuing something with Ramona, and watching Alicia and Peter get back to a place where they could confide in and comfort and advise each other. Season seven followed through on some, but not all, of this. Its pace slowed down drastically; all the ambition left the show. Alicia’s character development remained intact--- she was on her own (until 7x14…), like she decided to be in season 6; she was feeling good about her professional life. She wasn’t spinning anymore. But any development of A/P disappeared, to make way for this new arc where Peter runs for President (?) while A/P receive little to no screentime (??) and then the voicemail returns (!!) but seems to drag Alicia back to a past she’s already dealt with (???) rather than pushing the show to explore new themes (????), and now we’re back to where we were with A/P at the end of season six (yay!) so… we’re back to where season seven should have started. And we’re dealing with another full circle arc to motivate the same damn thing the writers wrote last year and chose to sideline… so they could spin their wheels and end up right back here a year later.

2) This Full Circle arc feels tacked on, as though it could have happened to conclude the show at any time—season 4, season 7, hell, even season 10. That makes a good ending, I guess. It certainly gives a sense of closure (even if things may be left unresolved at the end). But what it doesn’t do is stem from what’s been going on for the characters. The case involves something newly created, rather than something we watched Peter do. There’s emphasis on Alicia being The Good Wife, even though it doesn’t make much sense (and hasn’t made much sense all season—y’all know I’ve been complaining about this all year— that she’s seen as a trustworthy figure and not a seedy ambitious corrupt politician herself after the SA race last year) at this point in time. There’s the request for the divorce looming over it all, but it almost feels like part of the arc: why does Alicia ask now? Partially because it’s in character for her to ask now (but may I remind you that there’ve been in-character ways for Alicia to ask for a divorce at the end of every single season, including season one?) but mostly because it raises the stakes. Any other ongoing plots—from Alicia’s budding romance with Jason to Alicia’s new status at LG—will be consumed by this larger plot, changing the course of the show. I’ve always felt like the ending for this show should be simple: when everything becomes relatively calm for the characters, what does that look like? Once all of the arcs are pushed to their conclusion—Alicia finds a place to work where we can believe she’ll be content for a while; the marriage either ends or is solidified, etc.—the show can end. Instead, we’re gearing up for an ending that, in place of pushing existing story arcs to their natural conclusions, introduces a new conflict so we can have a splashy ending.

Alicia watches herself on TV. On TV, she’s standing next to Peter and saying she’s sure he’s innocent. (Is she?)

Lucca, despite her hesitations, does something smart and crafty to help Dellinger secure his freedom (in Canada). Lucca looks quite conflicted after she hangs up, and this seems like a good time to point out that while I’m happy the show is ending (it’s time), I’m extremely sad we’re not going to get more than 22 episodes of Lucca. I’d love to know more about her feelings on this and about her life in general, and I think she’s fit in seamlessly with the rest of the characters.

Case stuff happens; Dellinger can stay in Canada.

Kurt shows up at Diane’s office, and Diane apologizes: “It’s your business, not mine.” YES YES YES. I’m not saying “YES!” at the words so much as I am saying “YES!” to the idea. I think Diane has a point about Kurt not selling his business for $500,000 less than it’s worth, but I love that she is accepting that this isn’t really her call to make in the end.

I love this scene for Kurt, too—he’s realized that there’s truth in what Diane said, and wants to find another buyer. He says this is what he wants to do, and he wants to do it because he loves Diane. SQUEE!

“You make me happy, Kurt,” Diane says, almost crying. And then they hug. SO CUTE. These two are the best.

Alicia returns home and puts her keys in their bowl. She looks around, trying to figure out if someone else is there. (I know this is TGW, so if someone else is there it’s going to be a good thing, but this scene feels a little creepy… like, Jason, why are you lurking in the shadows of Alicia’s apartment and catching her off-guard? Is this romantic?) Someone else is there: Jason.

“Hi,” Alicia says, surprised. “Hi,” Jason replies. “It’s been a while,” Alicia notes. “I heard Toronto went well,” Jason says. “It did,” Alicia says, putting her bags down and walking toward Jason. She offers him food, though I feel like anyone who’s going to let himself into your house is probably going to help himself to food if he’s hungry. Jason doesn’t want food and he doesn’t explain why he’s there.

So Alicia starts the conversation: “When I told you I was divorcing, I didn’t mean for it to throw us off.” “I know,” Jason says. “But it did throw us off?” Alicia asks. Jason moves closer: “What do you want, Alicia?” he asks. “What do I want?” she repeats. “Yeah. Why are you getting divorced?” he clarifies.

“Uh… you may have heard. My husband slept with prostitutes,” Alicia goes back to the most apparent, public reason. “That was seven years ago,” Jason reminds her. As he should—there had to be some impetus for this split. “Why now?”

“Because I want to,” Alicia says, and that’s enough, but she continues (and thank goodness she does, because the reasons she offers are very much in line with the things I’ve been feeling as subtext all season!) “Because the kids are leaving home. Because… everything.” Yes! Yes, yes yes. Alicia’s circumstances are different. (And yeah, it’s also about Jason, but as I’ve probably said like twenty times at this point, about the idea of being able to move on more than the idea of Jason as The (new) One.)

“What do you want, Jason?” Alicia turns the question back on him, as she should, because he’s been pretty unclear, too. And every time he says he wants something, he does the opposite. He’s fine—but he’s not. He just wants things simple—but he gets entangled with Alicia. He wants it to be over between them—but he keeps coming back. So what DOES he want?

“I want things simple,” Jason says. “Yes, I know. So you’ve said,” Alicia snaps. (Yes!) “Unfortunately, things aren’t simple. I’m not simple. Nothing’s simple,” she explains, transporting me back to season one conversations between Alicia and Will. (The difference is that I think Jason understands—and wanting things simple is very different from not understanding that things are complex.) 

“Okay,” Jason replies, stepping closer. “Then what do you want?”

“You,” Alicia declares.

I loved this conversation until its last word. I have two problems with it. Well, three, if you count the fact that it’s just a clunky and clichéd line. First, it’s vague. What does that mean? Does that mean she just wants his company, or is this Alicia saying (and I think it is) that she wants to get serious? Second, it’s misleading. I’ve seen several people interpret this as Jason asking what Alicia wants in life (it’s not, in my view: when Jason asks the first time, his follow up question is specifically about the divorce, and everything they’ve been discussing here is about their relationship, not broader life goals), and that’s a very valid way to read this. The writers shouldn’t let viewers walk away from this scene under the impression that Alicia wants Jason and is divorcing Peter because of him. The writers should emphasize the more complex motivations: Alicia’s divorcing because she never forgave Peter, because her circumstances have changed, and because she’s realized she wants to explore her options, which she can’t do if she’s married. CONCURRENTLY, she is also starting to fall for Jason, which motivates but is not the sole reason for the divorce. “You,” as a response makes it all sound so simple. This should be a moment where we see Alicia realize—and let herself admit for the first time—that she is looking for another relationship; that her feelings for Jason are about more than just sex. Instead it’s… a sappy confusing misleading declaration.

And what does JASON want, anyway? What does simple mean? Does simple mean “casual”—“I want things simple, which means I just want a fuckbuddy with no ties so I never have to care” or does it mean “I want a relationship, but I don’t want a relationship that’s going to make me an enemy of the governor and get my name dragged across the press”? These are very different things, and I’m not sure which Jason means (though my guess is the latter). And how willing to compromise is he? I think he’s probably pretty willing to compromise if he feels the need to ask the question and have the conversation (CONVERSATION!!!) with Alicia—the simple thing to do would be to just tell her it’s over, not to invite her to open up a can of worms—but he’s got to understand that “simple” is a dream. But now I’m talking about two different things: there’s the question of whether or not Jason and Alicia want to start dating (for real) and the question of whether or not Jason and Alicia will make a good, lasting couple.

[florrickandassociates]

TGW Thoughts: 7x18--Unmanned

Thoughts on 7x18 under the cut!

Another episode opening, another striking shot of Alicia and Jason wrapped in sheets. But this time, they’re not watching a movie. This time, they’re just lying in bed, and Alicia decides it’s time to discuss religion.  “So, Greek Orthodox, huh?” she asks. Jason’s silent. “I’m just curious,” Alicia adds. “Yep,” Jason replies. “For how long?” “Long time.” “Your parents?” “Yeah, I have parents.” “Were your parents Greek Orthodox?” “Yeah.”

Before I get any deeper into this conversation, when did Alicia get this new bedding?! There’s a new duvet cover and there are new pillowcases and I dunno how to feel about Alicia getting a new bedset five episodes from the end of the series after having the same one for years.

“So you believe in God?” Alicia continues to probe. “Yep,” Jason answers. “You believe he’s watching us now?” Alicia asks. “Yeah,” Jason says. “So you believe this is fornication?” Alicia asks. Jason answers by flirting. Alicia laughs, but then asks if it bothers him. He says it does, a bit.

“Oh, no. This fallen woman is dragging you down,” Alicia says, and I think she means it half as a joke and half as a concern. But she moves on quickly: “You know what’s weird? I’m more judgmental about my daughter’s Christianity than yours. Why is that?” I don’t know why that is, but it’s interesting to see Alicia being self-aware that she is judgmental about Grace’s religion.

“I don’t know. You’re a bad person?” Jason jokes. Alicia smiles, but it’s not really funny. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re doing wrong when you’re with me,” Alicia confesses. “Yeah, you do,” Jason lightens the mood. “Yeah, I guess I do,” Alicia plays along, and crawls back under the sheets.

… and then her phone rings. It’s 9:10, so it’s probably Diane. Alicia’s needed in court on another Dipple case. “Don’t get up. I want to picture you in my bed,” Alicia instructs Jason. “All day. Just eating bonbons. Watching daytime TV.” That’s nice and all but doesn’t Jason also have work to do? “You have a nice day, dear,” Jason plays along.

Cut to video shot by a drone of a residential street. It’s playing in court. Max Medina (his character’s name on Gilmore Girls; I didn’t even recognize him) is the LAL client and R.D. test case. Other players include judge Dunaway and Caitlin D’Arcy. CAITLIN!!!!! YAY CAITLIN!!!!! (Though, I really hoped the Stay-at-Home-Mom thing would work out for her, even if she did eventually decide to go back to work. I always liked that ending for her character.)

Alicia’s surprised and happy to see Caitlin back, even though she’s on the opposite side now. (Caitlin didn’t want to rely on Uncle David for a job?!) “Look at her,” Alicia nudges Diane, proud.

In the hallway, Alicia and Caitlin talk. Caitlin’s been back to work for about a month; her daughter Zoe just started nursery school. Awwww. Caitlin shows Alicia a picture of Zoe. “So, you’re happy?” Alicia asks. “I am,” Caitlin replies.

“I learned from the best,” Caitlin compliments Alicia when Alicia compliments her on a nice move in court.

Jason’s wandering around Alicia’s apartment in an undershirt and boxers when the door begins to open. He expects it to be Alicia… it’s Peter and Peter’s security detail. Awkward.

“Is my wife here?” Peter asks. Funny how Alicia always becomes “my wife” instead of “Alicia” when Peter feels threatened. “She’s in court,” Jason states. “You’re her investigator?” Peter confirms. “Yeah,” Jason says.

Then Peter, who’d been keeping his cool up until this point, steps forward and slaps Jason’s glass coffee mug out of his hand. Was that honestly necessary, Peter? What did Jason do to you? What did that coffee mug do to you? Why do the Florricks hate Alicia’s glassware so much this season?!

(Full disclosure: I think this moment was supposed to be dramatic, but Jason is so unflappable and Peter is so ridiculous that I laughed out loud the first time through.)  

“We are still married,” Peter lectures Jason. Yeah. You were still married when you were having a relationship with Ramona, too, Peter. And it’s not Jason’s fault if Alicia wants to be seeing someone else. You have a problem with that, you take it up with Alicia. “I’ll get my things,” Jason says. “Yeah, that would be good,” Peter barely conceals his anger.

He follows Jason into Alicia’s bedroom and notices the messy pile of sheets on the bed. “How long has this been going on?” Peter wants to know. “That’s a question for Alicia,” Jason states. “Does Grace know?” Peter asks next. That’s actually a good question—one I’d like to know the answer to—and I’m glad Peter asks it. Jason says that’s another question for Alicia, which it really is.

Peter blocks the doorway. “You’re in my way,” Jason tells him. “You’re screwing my wife, and I’m in your way?” Peter asks incredulously. Actually, Peter, yes. You are standing in his way. You’re not the injured party here, and if this injures you, then maybe don’t a) accept an arrangement that Alicia sleeping with other men is a part of and b) be a complete hypocrite about this. The situation with Peter and Ramona was almost identical the situation with Jason and Alicia. Where was Peter’s concern about Grace then? (Remember how Alicia shut down that reporter by mentioning that Grace was in the audience at the debate?) Why was it okay for him but not for Alicia?

This open marriage arrangement has been, from day one, a bad idea. It only has the potential to hurt the kids and create a scandal. The risks are as big as the potential rewards. And not only that, but it ensures that Alicia and Peter can try to move on (as they are both human beings with sex drives and the situation is precarious enough they would only be able to sleep with someone they trusted) but that any new relationships are doomed. The other person involved won’t like the confusion; Alicia and Peter won’t want to break off the arrangement (necessarily); Peter and Alicia will both still feel a claim to each other as long as they’re married. (And yes, Peter and Alicia. Alicia didn’t slap away coffee mugs or anything, but she didn’t handle the Ramona situation well. At all.)

“At the moment, yes,” Jason replies. “I should kick your ass,” Peter threatens. Good luck with that, Peter. Jason would kick your ass if you tried. Also, you’re the governor. “You could try. And then what?” Jason appeals to Peter’s rational side. (Jason is winning so many points from me by handling this situation so well.)

Peter considers this, and moves aside. Jason leaves. The camera stays with Peter—I do sort of feel bad for the man; it’s unreasonable to expect him to not have any feelings about this even if he brought the situation upon himself and handled it terribly—and then goes back to Jason making his exit. (To be clear: there’s a huge distinction between understandable and justified. Understandable = Peter being emotional about an emotional situation. But that doesn’t mean acting like he owns Alicia is justified—it’s very much not justified.) 

Marissa is at work when AUSA Fox comes to visit. He wants to involve Marissa in the grand jury mess. She phones mall security. He’s trying to put Eli in a position (by involving Marissa) where he has to turn on Peter.

At LAL, Diane and Cary tell Howard Lyman, again pantsless, that he’s going to be moving offices. His current office is a very visible space, and that’s a problem because… well, because Howard never wears pants. He’s being moved to the 27th floor. His future… step-daughter-in-law (??)… is taking his office. All my dreams of Alicia/Lucca conversations through the glass wall are crushed! And poor Lucca, with a direct view of Howard Lyman in his boxers!

Howard wants to know why Cary’s on Diane’s side now. Well, Cary’s wanted Howard gone all season, so…

Case stuff happens. I like Caitlin. Other than that, why is this case here? Get out.

David Lee observes Howard packing up his office, and surmises that it must be Diane’s doing. Howard informs him that it was both Diane and “the gerbil.” (Awww, Cary.) Howard makes a comparison to the Holocaust, somehow.

Cary, meanwhile, is sitting in his office, staring at the relaxing beach scene on his laptop screen. He sighs loudly and begins to play music. He leans back, stares at the ceiling, and closes his eyes. But he doesn’t get much rest—Alicia interrupts. “You alright? You seem a little out of it,” she comments. (Alicia’s hair is all wavy now! It’s not my all-time favorite look on her, but it’s a million times better than whatever the hell the wig was earlier this season!)

“It’s been a weird time, huh?” Cary reflects. “What do you mean?” Alicia asks. “Us jumping from firm to firm. All the changes. It was easier when we started out,” Cary explains. “Yeah. Not necessarily better,” Alicia adds. But, I think, for Cary, it WAS better. Alicia liked the potential and independence of the early days of F/A, but it wasn’t her ideal environment. Cary, on the other hand, loved everything about it: the excitement, the energy, the independence, the structure, the vibe, etc. F/A was the rough version of the firm Cary dreamed of running and working for. Alicia’s just adaptable.

“Go home, Cary. Take a nap. An afternoon off isn’t going to change anything,” Alicia advises as she leaves to go meet Caitlin. But isn’t it? At LAL, an afternoon off could be all it takes for someone in a vulnerable position.

A very weary Cary looks down at a yellow envelope after Alicia exits. It’s a subpoena. Uh oh. (It’s also our insurance, given the later events of the episode, that we’ll see Cary again.)

Case stuff happens.

Alicia arrives back at her apartment to find the space empty. There’s a long take of a long shot of Alicia’s apartment—the living room, the entryway, and the door to Alicia’s room—as Alicia opens the door, looks around, puts her stuff down, searches the apartment, and takes out her phone to phone Jason. I like it.

She asks Jason where he is. He ignores the call, gets in his truck, and drives off. It’s 8:26 pm. Even without the Peter confrontation, did Alicia really expect Jason to sit in her apartment for nearly twelve hours? I’m sure this is supposed to be a lot more dramatic than it feels.

Including Marissa in the Grand Jury mess makes me care slightly more about the stakes, but I’m still calling it the Grand Jury mess and still not feeling the need for a heavily serialized plot at this point in time. I guess the important thing here is that this grand jury actually will indict a ham sandwich, though I’m not sure Peter really is a ham sandwich but how would I know when this is the first I’m hearing of this alleged wrongdoing? (That’s another reason it’s hard to care about this. It’s not a retcon because there’s no reason we would’ve heard about it before and it plausibly could’ve happened, but it’s also not particularly interesting because we never heard about it before.) (At least it’s not the vote rigging.)

Case stuff happens. Why is this case taking up so much of my time?

David Lee’s mad at Cary, his ally, for letting Diane move Howard’s office. Cary says working with Diane on that was the lesser of two evils. He really doesn’t like Lyman, in case you forgot. “This is war,” David Lee declares, preparing to take aim. This episode feels poised to explode, Hitting the Fan style. This battle’s been building all season (to varying degrees of success—a bunch of scattered storylines showing disagreements and moments of cooperation that are all more or less distinct from each other isn’t exactly the best groundwork laying I’ve ever seen) so it should be big, right?!

Case stuff happens. Only important thing is the presence of Leslie Odom Jr. This show is determined to get the best guest stars up until the end. Also, here is an “Aaron Burr, Sir” reference and your reminder to listen to the Hamilton cast recording if you haven’t already.

David Lee decides to haze Lucca by dropping lots of paperwork on her desk.

Eli confronts AUSA Fox. “Help me take down Peter Florrick, or your daughter helps me take you down,” Fox threatens. That’s all you need to know from this scene.

Unsurprisingly, Jason hasn’t actually left town. He’s in the LAL conference room, and Alicia goes to talk to him. “I missed you last night,” she says. “Just… work,” he avoids. “Well… what are you doing tonight?” Alicia flirts. “Look, Alicia, I like you… I like you a lot…,” Jason starts, with the break-up voice on. Alicia and Jason have had several of these conversations so far in their relationship—one of them isn’t sure about something, tries to cut ties slowly, the other isn’t sure what happened to create the distance, etc… but there’s something else all of these scenes have in common. They either turn into conversations or lead to conversations later on. Alicia and Jason communicate.

“Seriously?” Alicia says, because Jason doesn’t even need to finish that sentence. She knows what he’s saying. “What do you want me to say?” Jason asks. “I don’t want you to say anything. I want you to do what you did the other day. I want you—,” Alicia insists, about to get all sexyvoice when a bunch of associates walk into the conference room. She shoos them away. “I want to use you and I want you to use me. This is purely sexual,” Alicia states. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. So you’re telling yourself. I’m not saying this is necessarily going to go somewhere else, or that it’s already a full-fledged relationship, or that it’s much more than a friends-with-benefits situation, but purely sexual? Keep telling yourself that. He’s waiting at your apartment all day. You’re not interested in anyone else. You got jealous when he kissed someone else. You’re willing to risk being seen in public with him. You’re hanging out and having deep conversations. You’re asking him why you’re judgmental of your daughter’s religion. This may be purely sexual now, and purely sexual may be all that Alicia’s looking for, but lol. Alicia just wants him to stay (and, of course, doesn’t want to commit to anything serious). And that in itself kind of proves that this relationship isn’t the textbook definition of “purely sexual.”

Jason still doesn’t want it to continue; Alicia thinks it’s about religion (she doesn’t want his spirit, she wants his body, cringe). It’s not. Jason finally tells her: “Your husband came home yesterday morning.” “Oh, God,” Alicia winces. “What?” Jason asks. “Look, whatever he said, whatever he did, it has nothing to do with us,” Alicia tries to explain. HOW DOES IT HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THE TWO OF YOU? Peter can be unpredictable, and every time Alicia and Jason converse (or do more than converse) in public puts Alicia, Peter, and Jason at risk of making headline news. You can try to explain this away, Alicia, and insist on one of those impermeable walls (that are always actually very permeable) you love so much (politics doesn’t affect my work life! My family can’t be involved in politics!), but it’s not going to hold.

“I just don’t like coming in the middle of something,” Jason refuses to back down. Alicia suggests a change of venue—Jason’s place. A hotel. The back of her car. The door opens, the conference room fills, and the conversation ends before Jason can say that’s not really what he meant. “I’m seeing you tonight, at my apartment. After that, you can do whatever you want,” she whispers in his ear.

She exits the conference room, pissed and contemplative. She brushes off Caitlin. “Alicia, you need to talk to your client,” Caitlin demands. “I don’t need to do anything,” Alicia snaps as the elevator doors close.

Next thing we know, Alicia’s power-walking through the hallway of the Governor’s Office. She opens the doors and interrupts a meeting. Peter tries to say he’s busy, but Alicia glares at him, and when Alicia gives you that look, you go and listen to what she’s about to say. “What’s going on?” he asks. She stares him in the eye, waits long enough that I thought we’d head to commercials before she responded, and then declares: “I want a divorce.”

Wow. And there it is. Before I analyze what’s going on here, I want to complain about something. This is season seven, episode eighteen. It’s the fifth-to-last episode of the entire series. And now—NOW—we’re getting a divorce? Why? Why wait so long? I’d rather it here than in the finale, but since a divorce has been in the cards for a while now (I won’t go back to the Pilot here; I know some of you will), why not have it happen earlier in the series so we could get more of Alicia’s post-Peter life? Why build it so that we likely won’t get to see post-Peter life… at all, by the time the divorce goes through? This wouldn’t be a problem if season seven had justified the prolonging of the Florrick marriage. After Alicia lost SA, she and Peter were in an interesting place. They were friendly and moving on. They were communicating and supporting each other and seeing each other as equals. They were headed towards a reconciliation that might really stick (everything on the table; respect reestablished) or towards an amicable split. But did the writers delve into this? Nope! They could and should have constructed plots in season seven that dealt with Alicia and Peter having to work together, like Alicia having to attend political events, or Alicia and Peter working with Grace on the college admissions process. There are a million and one ways the writers could contrive it so that Alicia and Peter have to interact and problem-solve about business, politics, and family. These would all prompt low-key but meaningful conversations about their relationship, like, if Grace is off to college next year (they grow up so fast!), what’s that going to be like for Alicia? What’s the future going to hold? Eventually, these conversations would lead to a resolution about the marriage, either because they’d get around to that topic or because of things happening parallel to the conversations, like Alicia falling for Jason or Peter falling for Ramona/someone else. And then a divorce could happen… not with five episodes to go. Sorry, I’m rambling. My point is that we didn’t get this. We got minimal Alicia/Peter scenes because for some reason, Peter had to run for President. The campaign blew up the Eli/Peter friendship with no payoff or resolution, had very little to say about Peter as a person or as a candidate, proved to be a missed opportunity for a rehabilitation campaign for Alicia (we’re told one happened—wouldn’t that have been cool to see? More with the ghost writer, an image consultant, Alicia hating it all?), and stalled Alicia and Peter’s relationship from progressing. And for no reason other than to kill time that really didn’t need to be killed and launch a boring corruption arc I’m not yet convinced we needed.

What I’m saying is that Alicia and Peter should’ve divorced in early season 7.

THAT SAID, I like the way Alicia asks for a divorce. If it had to play out at this point in time, I’m glad it played out this way. It’s the latest example of my catalyst theory. I just linked to the post, but to save you the time: my catalyst theory is that Alicia often makes decisions that look impulsive but aren’t. Things build up in her mind over time—in this case, the desire not to be romantically involved with Peter, the lack of interest in the political spotlight, the declining need to watch the (now grown) kids at every moment, the interest in Jason, the disinterest in being secretive about seeing other men, etc.—but don’t all fit together to lead to a decision. But then, something (the catalyst) happens, and it all clicks. And she makes a big, permanent decision in seconds. That decision isn’t one Alicia makes because of the catalyst; it’s one she makes because of everything she’d been thinking already. Her motivations can seem simple—“Alicia wants to fuck Jason and that can’t happen if she’s with Peter, so Peter has to go”—when they’re really quite complex.

It’s important that the divorce plays out this way. Alicia isn’t backed into a corner by a scandal (sexual or criminal)—she decides to divorce based on the things she experiences in her everyday life. No one gives her an ultimatum or tells her what to do. She just decides. (Yes, she actually is backed into a corner, but that doesn’t even factor in to her thinking!)

And one last thing before I get into the bulk of the Alicia/Peter conversation, which happens after the break… Unmanned. Get it? A drone is unmanned, and Alicia is “un-manned” in two ways—she asks for a divorce and she and Diane move closer to their female-led firm.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asks. “Nothing’s wrong,” Alicia says calmly. She may be giving off a death glare, but she’s more determined than angry. Calming her down won’t make her change her mind. She says again that she wants a divorce, and Peter’s all, “I’m in the middle of something.” “Okay, you take care of that. I’ll have my lawyer call you,” Alicia says. Hah. She starts to walk away, which is when Peter realizes he can’t ignore this. He follows her out of the office.

“This is about your investigator, isn’t it?” Peter growls, getting close to Alicia. “My investigator?” Alicia asks. “Mmhm,” Peter confirms. “Yes. I would never think of divorcing you unless I had some other man to call my own,” Alicia mocks the idea. Thanks for taking care of that one for me, Alicia! This is an important distinction. Yes, this decision to divorce is linked to Jason. No, it’s not about him. Alicia isn’t leaving Peter so she can fuck Jason freely. Alicia’s leaving Peter because she’s realized, finally, that her marriage to Peter is at cross-purposes with her desires, generally speaking. It’s not just Jason, or even how Peter treated Jason, it’s everything. It’s Alicia being placed in a situation in which her open marriage idea bites her in the ass, not liking it one bit, and then taking action to rectify her mistake.

Peter grabs Alicia and guides her into an office. They’re being watched (by Nora! Hi Nora!) and need privacy if this is going to get contentious. (Hey, Peter, if you don’t want this to be contentious, maybe don’t start off by implying that the only reason Alicia could possibly want to divorce you is that she was just waiting for the right man to come along and steal her away.)

“I saw him yesterday,” Peter says once they’re in private. He does have a good reason to make the connection, but yikes, Peter, do you really want to go there? “Walking around in his boxer shorts, acting like he owned the place,” Peter adds, outraged. Oh no! An invited guest existing! The horror! “Yes. Because I own the place, and I told him he was welcome to walk around naked if he wants,” Alicia says. Yeah, exactly. Though doesn’t Peter co-own the place, technically?

“And Grace? Oh, you don’t give a damn about your daughter,” Peter asks. This would be a fair point if he weren’t making it to shame Alicia for being a bad mother. It’s an entirely valid concern to wonder how Grace feels about a man walking around her home in his underwear all the time, though I think Alicia and Peter both know that’s not happening—the underwear part, at least. It’s an entirely valid concern to wonder how Grace feels about her mom being with Jason, and to wonder if Grace knows about the relationship. But Peter doesn’t bring it up out of concern for his daughter’s well-being alone. He brings it up to prove that Alicia’s putting the poor thing at risk. And, honestly? Fuck that. Coming from Peter? FUCK THAT. Where was this concern two years ago when you agreed to the arrangement? Where was it seven years ago when you fucked hookers? Kalinda? Where was it when you were sleeping with Ramona?

We dealt with this slutshaming bullshit in season three, and I’m not about to go back there. Remember how people insisted Alicia was being punished by the universe for having sex? Remember how Alicia felt torn up inside and distracted because she was sleeping with Will? Alicia put herself through hell thinking she was hurting her kids. The whole time she was with Will, she felt anxious about the different parts of her life colliding, and she felt like by being with Will, she was distracting herself from her children and ignoring her priorities. She couldn’t bear to put herself first—not just so she could have good sex. (It’s unlikely Peter, a man, ever had these thoughts during his many sexual dalliances.) She knows a few things about looking out for her kids. But she also knows that she can’t be expected to sacrifice her own happiness for their sake all of the time, especially now that Grace is legally an adult. Yes, an eighteen year old can still be hurt by her mom’s actions, but an eighteen year old is very different from a fourteen year old. (And, again, if anything’s going to hurt Grace, it’s the fake marriage that Peter is complicit in, not Alicia having her own version of the same relationship Peter had a year ago.)

I worry about Grace too. But I don’t worry about her selectively. And I don’t think Alicia having sex is going to destroy her. I also think it’s rich that Peter wants to bring this up after Alicia’s asked for a divorce. A divorce means being upfront with the kids an in a position where Alicia having a relationship is not cheating in any way. A divorce means the end of the pretending, which Grace was aware of and never liked anyway. But no, instead of wondering how they’ll tell the kids or asking what Grace knows so they can figure out how to tell the kids, Peter is more interested in criticizing Alicia. Peter wants to lecture Alicia on being a bad mom, and however right he might be about the potential for Grace to be hurt by this, his intentions here are all wrong. He can’t use Grace’s existence to shame Alicia, especially not before he’s even heard her reply about what Grace knows.

Alicia laughs. “Yes. I’m an unfit mother. In the divorce, you can get full custody, for the three weeks before she goes to college,” Alicia mocks, not having any of what Peter’s saying. If he’d asked a question that was really about Grace rather than one that was about telling her she failed to perform her womanly duties, maybe she’d have responded less hostilely.

“Well, this must be true love. Again,” Peter spits. Fuck off. Get over yourself. That’s a low blow. It’s judgmental, cruel, and inappropriate. (Again: Understandable? Yes. Justified? HELL NO.) No one looks good when they’re fighting. Alicia gets snarky and cruel; Peter gets possessive and mean. But Peter’s so judgmental and immature—and, I would venture to say, sexist—in this scene that I can’t defend him. His insults, which he feels the need to use, are about Alicia’s inability to exist without a man, remove Alicia’s agency from the equation (Jason just happens to be there?), and shame Alicia for not being a good enough mother.

He’ll calm down after he gets over the initial shock and bitterness of his 20+ year marriage coming to an end. And, of course, he’s coming off of a humiliating loss and he’s under tremendous pressure because of the investigation. I understand why he’d be upset, and it doesn’t make him a terrible person that he gets this way when he’s mad. (Alicia didn’t handle the Ramona thing much better. “Stop banging the help”? Emphasizing that Ramona’s of a lower status than she is? Petty and uncalled for.)

“Is that what would upset you most? If I was in love?” Alicia asks, twisting the knife. (Deescalate, Alicia! Deescalate! You don’t want to upset him! You just want to divorce him!)

“No, what upsets me the most is that you’re shoving it in my face!” Peter whisper-yells. Interesting definition of shoving it in his face. Asking for a divorce calmly and directly is shoving it in his face? Responding to his provocations and insulting “explanations” for her actions (note that he doesn’t give her a chance to explain before he starts making assumptions) is shoving it in his face?

“I’m not shoving anything. This is me not caring. Not caring what people think, what Eli thinks, what you think…” Alicia explains. “Or what the FBI thinks,” Peter interrupts. Alicia raises her eyebrows like, seriously? “You know I’m about to be indicted, don’t you?” Peter asks. “Peter, you’re always being indicted. If it weren’t today, it would be tomorrow,” Alicia responds.

There’s no such thing as the perfect time to divorce. There would always be some reason for Alicia to stay. It would be too close to reelection, or his approval numbers would be low, or he’d be trying to pass a bill about women’s health or family, or he’d be under investigation, or he’d be busy, or Alicia would need his name for something, or there’d be one more milestone with the kids to wait to see. There’s no such thing as the perfect time. This is a colossally BAD time to get divorced if you’re Peter (it’s a good time to get divorced if you’re Alicia, because your ass is covered), but if Alicia just keeps waiting and waiting, no one wins and the misery continues.

Peter sits down on the couch and thinks. I almost feel bad for him. I would actually feel bad for him if he hadn’t been such a dick in that last conversation.

Case stuff happens. GTFO.  

Eli’s waiting at LAL when Alicia and Diane return from court. Alicia thinks Peter sent him, but he’s there for Diane, because he needs a lawyer for the grand jury plot from hell.

Lucca and Alicia talk! Lucca’s hiding from David Lee. Alicia has to close the door to talk about Diane’s female led firm plot. “Are we taking over?” Lucca wants to know. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I have the stomach for a gender war right now,” Alicia explains. Lucca wants to know if they’d make more money. They probably would. Hehe.

Alicia’s back at Cary’s door. He greets her happily. She asks him to help Lucca get David Lee off her back. Alicia knows it’s a hazing ritual, but she also knows that Lucca was her partner before they were at LAL, and she’s no ordinary associate. Cary has a favor to ask Alicia, and it’s to side against Diane when shit hits the fan (again). “Cary, I’m not a name partner,” Alicia tries to wiggle her way out of the situation. “But you’re a name,” he insists. “This is none of my business,” Alicia attempts. She refuses to take sides, even though by refusing to take sides, she’s pretty much siding with Diane (since if she doesn’t fight for Cary, Diane will win, and a Diane win means that power gets handed to Alicia). Cary’s not pleased, and might not help Lucca, but this is hardly the explosive conflict that Alicia “lying” to Cary could’ve pointed to. More than anything, it’s two people realizing they don’t like to be in the middle of office politics. Alicia realizes this with a smile on her face, since she’s a non-name partner and can choose to sit this one out, but Cary’s just exhausted.

Case stuff happens.

Grand jury stuff happens.

Diane and David are arguing loudly in the conference room. Cary’s all the way at the other end of the table, silent.

Curious: if Alicia’s name is a big draw to clients and Diane knows that Peter is at a huge risk (and is in fact representing the man that could take him down), why is Diane pushing for Alicia on the letterhead right now? Also, I’m still bitter we didn’t get more of the brilliant Alicia Rehabilitation Campaign. What a fantastic final arc that could’ve been.

Cary joins the conversation to point out that Diane didn’t even want Alicia back. “I was shortsighted,” Diane admits. “Or I was,” Cary suggests.

Diane asks to make Alicia a name partner. Cary says no. Diane threatens to take it to the whole partnership. Cary asks if Diane wants to tear the firm apart to get the votes.

Cut to Howard and David Lee talking. David Lee says Howard isn’t getting his office back. He doesn’t want to have a big fight—he’s just not sure it’s worth it.

“Howard, at the end of the day, all I want to do is milk this place for all it’s worth while it’s still standing,” David Lee says. Then he goes to Diane’s office. He’ll support Alicia’s elevation to name partner on one condition. We don’t get to find out what it is, though it may be implied that it’s buying Cary out. I don’t know if this is another power play, but it feels like a de-escalation. David doesn’t want to fight and scheme. He just wants to profit. This conflict, so ready to break out, turns into nothing. There are consequences, but Hitting the Fan this is not. Things don’t have to reach the point of no return to be compelling. This whole episode de-escalates—in the next few scenes, Eli will turn AUSA Fox’s ultimatum back on him, and Alicia and Peter will discuss their divorce calmly rather than trading barbs (as was bound to happen once the initial shock and passion wore off).

Alicia returns home, not sure what she’ll find. No one replies when she calls, “Hello?” No one’s in the kitchen when she sets down her stuff. (Psst! Script supervisor! Keys go in bowl to the left of the door when you walk into the apartment!) But Jason’s there on her bed when she opens the door. He smiles, she smiles, the music swells, and she leaps into his arms. How cute! I would love for this to await me at home someday. It seems nice.

But I’m curious to see where this goes. The writers have set up Alicia and Jason’s relationship as one they can take to a romantic place (they have an intellectual connection; they understand each other) or they can continue to have it serve as Alicia’s fleeting but wonderful distraction from reality. It can end the second it’s no longer fun (like Lucca suggested) or it can turn into more. (Or, I suppose, a third thing could happen, like Jason actually being evil or whatever.) I’ll accept it no matter which way it goes, and I don’t really have a preference. All I ask is that Alicia get to a place where she doesn’t need any kind of a crutch—alcohol or sex—to get through the day.

Case stuff happens.

Turns out Caitlin’s separated from her husband, which felt like the inevitable way they’d take this when I saw her name on the cast list. As I said before, I liked the way Caitlin left the firm, and while this stuff happens, I wish the writers hadn’t proved Diane’s words right. One of the best things 3x17 did, in my opinion, was show that Diane’s definition of feminism still insisted there was a right choice for a (well-off) woman to make: working. So I don’t need Caitlin to come back, in the episode where Alicia asks for a divorce, and tell Alicia that she was right when she said that Caitlin never should’ve left all the way back in season 3. Caitlin doesn’t know it, but Alicia ended that episode happy for Caitlin, convinced that Caitlin had made a good choice.

“No, I wasn’t right,” Alicia comforts Caitlin. At least there’s that? I don’t really know what I want here, because there’s nothing bad about Caitlin’s return. None of this really says that Caitlin didn’t like being a stay-at-home-mom. And Alicia insists that Caitlin still made the right choice; that leaving was a good thing. I’m not really upset about this, but I wish they’d just left it alone.

Cary realizes he’s been screwed. David Lee and Howard sided with Diane. (Is David Lee still name partner? I just got used to calling this damn firm LAL and now I don’t even know what it’s called and there are four episodes left so FUCK IT, IT’S LG ALWAYS AND FOREVER.) (G and F are right next to each other on the keyboard, so maybe I can swing calling it LF if the firm is Lockhart Florrick now. Or would it be Lockhart Cavanaugh? Lockhart Florrick Lee? Lockhart Lee Florrick? Lockhart Cavanaugh Lee? Lockhart Lee Cavanaugh?)

Grand jury stuff happens. Eli and Diane get the pressure off of Marissa.

Cary stares at the beach on his screen again, and the same song plays. Alicia, smiling because she’s a name partner again, arrives at his door. “Thank you,” she says. “For what?” Cary asks. “For making me name partner. It was a surprise,” she explains. “Don’t thank me; I voted against it,” Cary informs her. “Is… that because of the conversation we had before?” Alicia wonders. “No. Don’t worry; David Lee voted for you. He doesn’t care anymore,” Cary states. Alicia—who didn’t end up having to take sides after all, but did win by default—gets concerned about Cary. “Cary. I’m on your side. I know we’ve been at loggerheads before, but I won’t be working against you,” she tries to explain. “I know. Because I’m quitting,” Cary declares. Oh. Damn. Alicia’s confused. “I’m having Diane buy me out,” Cary explains. “Why?!” Alicia needs to know. “I don’t like it anymore. I like being a lawyer—that can be fun—but this isn’t. I’m not good at it. I’m not good at looking over my shoulder. I don’t want to be my dad,” Cary clarifies.  He does a better job explaining his motivations that I could. This makes a lot of sense as an exit for Cary, though it’s not the last time we’ll see him. He’s resisted the transition to being more like original recipe LG from the start, and he and Diane never got on the same page. It sucks that he’d have to be exhausted and threatened to the point where he’d want to quit, but he’ll land on his feet. He’s a smart, hardworking guy. Maybe he’s not cut out for being a managing partner at a firm like LAL, but who said that’s the definition of success? It’s a bittersweet ending (if it is an ending) for Cary, but he’s removing himself from an environment he’s disliked for a while that caused him a lot of stress. That’s good, even if he’s leaving with fewer people he can trust and a lot of exhaustion. Not happily ever after good, but still good.

It’s a quiet exit. No security guards, no fighting. And thank goodness for that. As Cary walks away, his tie isn’t on quite right. It hangs to the side, and if there’s any image that conveys a Cary Agos too tired to fight silly firm battles, it’s Cary with his tie off-center. He usually looks put together—that’s even one of the first things Will noticed about him—so it takes a lot to get him to look as tired as he feels.

Alicia heads home and considers drinking. There’s a knock at the door, and she takes a deep breath. The key turns as Peter lets himself in (and no, I don’t think it’s a stretch that he has a key to the apartment where his daughter lives). 

“Can I come in?” Peter ventures, respecting Alicia’s space. “I can’t fight now, Peter. I’m exhausted,” Alicia replies. “Then let me just talk,” Peter requests. She doesn’t say anything, signaling that he can come in. He sits down on a bar stool at the kitchen island. (De-escalating! This is not the position you sit in if you’re going to argue.)

“I’m not here to argue you out of your divorce,” Peter opens, now that he’s calmed down. “The kids are grown; we live apart; things have changed,” he acknowledges. (THANK YOU. As I’ve been saying for the past few weeks, Alicia’s circumstances have changed, so it makes sense that things that used to be huge dealbreakers for her no longer matter as much.) “Good, thanks,” she replies. Civil! Mature!

“But I do need to ask you a favor. As you know, I’m being indicted. But this time, I don’t think it’s a false alarm. I need you to stand beside me during this. You can proceed with the divorce. Just get everything ready—I won’t contest it—but… don’t make it public until afterwards. I can’t have it look like you’re leaving me because I’m guilty. After that, we’ll go our separate ways, live our lives, see each other when the kids graduate. But I need to ask you this one last favor,” Peter says. Alicia takes a breath, about to give her response, and… end of episode.

It’s not unreasonable of Peter to ask this—the divorce will take a while to process; this gives Alicia whatever she wants in the divorce and helps Peter not look as guilty. It also gives the show the opportunity to play with Alicia As The Good Wife For One Last Time, which is probably not as interesting of a theme as the writers think it is, especially when Post-Good-Wife Alicia would be more fascinating. So I’ll understand if she says yes. She doesn’t resent Peter; she’s not divorcing out of anger. She supports him politically, and always has. She doesn’t want to make this situation any worse—that doesn’t benefit anyone (and the kids may be grown, but I’m sure it would still be easier on them for their parents to split amicably than to have their parents split, their dad sent to jail, AND their parents hating each other because their dad thinks their mom could’ve been instrumental in preventing his jail sentence).

But I’ll also understand if she says no. Standing by Peter hurts her if he is found guilty, and there’s a good chance he’ll be found guilty. She has a lot to lose. Staying means prolonging the divorce, which means keeping her sexytimes with Jason a secret for months, which means she’s not really free. It also means that her reputation could take a hit. If she gets out now, she looks prescient: she saw that he must be guilty, so she refused to put up with more bullshit. If she waits and Peter isn’t convicted, cool! Win-win! If she waits and Peter is convicted, she looks either opportunistic, foolish, complicit, or all three. Maybe there are ways to minimize that—and she’s losing the name value no matter what, plus her testimony to the grand jury is already on record and will be made public—so maybe it is the best move for all involved for her to stay. I really don’t know. There are lots of nasty repercussions either way. And while I wish the writers didn’t feel the need to pose this question, they did, and I’m excited to see how they (and Alicia) handle it.

[florrickandassociates]

TGW Thoughts: 7x17-- Shoot

Thoughts on 7x17 under the cut...

This week’s cold open is something a little bit different: an extended sequence showing the life of a man we’ll soon find out is the client of the week and his daughter. We start with the girl’s (Yesha’s) first steps, documented by a clunky point and shoot camera. Then it’s her first day of school, recorded with a chunky camcorder. Then she’s a student, middle school or high school, talking about her dreams of being a doctor. She’s confident in the classroom, until she gets braces, and cries at home to her dad that no one will love her. Then she’s off to prom, as documented by an iPhone.

The only indication that this is TGW (other than the very TGW choice to include the evolving technology alongside Yesha growing up) is the scoring. Also, this break in describing the action on screen exists only because my sense of dread at having to watch this wonderful, ambitious child die due to a random act of gun violence again. I knew it was coming the first time, too (thanks, press release). I don’t care how emotionally manipulative this is (not only is it a child being killed, but it’s happening randomly and she is bright and sweet and just getting back from her first prom and drinking chocolate milk and… you get it; she’s impossible not to like); it succeeded in making me a teary mess.

That will suffice for discussing this horribly emotional sequence I never plan to watch again. I’ll add that Blair Underwood has an Emmy tape in this episode, for sure.

Cut to the court room, present day. The father, Harry, is in court for defamation. He’s put up a billboard blaming the gun store, Gloria’s, for murdering his daughter, and Gloria’s wants it taken down. This case is more… activist… than TGW normally is. There’s no question, even for a second, about who our sympathies are supposed to lie with. We just watched his daughter die, in one of the most violent, upsetting, and gruesome sequences this show’s ever done.  

Gloria’s guns are frequently used in crimes—the store makes it easy to circumvent background check requirements.

“Your Honor, we know you’re pro-gun control,” the opposing counsel, Alma Hoff (Sweeney’s real life wife if you didn’t already know!) tells Judge Abernathy. Abernathy is one of the best judges this show has; I love him. He’s liberal and he’s fair.

Cary decides to switch strategies in the middle of trial without consulting Diane. Even Abernathy thinks his argument—that the statement “Gloria’s murdered my daughter” is actual truth—is a little crazy. Diane rolls with it, but says they need to get Jason to pivot.

And so the show pivots, too, to Jason…’s legs as he searches for his phone in a pile of clothes. A pile of clothes which includes Alicia’s gorgeous and expensive dress all crumpled up on the floor. I would treat that dress better than Alicia does, so I think I deserve for it to appear in my closet. It’s Narciso Rodriguez—of course it is; most of Alicia’s best looks are—and it’s hella expensive and it’s amazing and I want it so much. I will probably ramble more about how much I love this dress when Alicia puts it on.

Jason answers Diane’s call despite Alicia’s protests. Alicia kisses his neck as he tries to talk, distracting him; Jason’s not amused. Alicia smiles guiltily when Jason asks Diane to hold for a second, then snickers when Jason tells her to “Grow up.” Then HER phone rings, so she rolls across the bed to take the call. It’s Eli.

So, a few comments here. One, growing up is the clear theme of this episode. It’s where we start off with the case, it’s in the plot with Grace preparing to go to college, it’s possibly even in Lucca’s promotion, and it’s most obviously a topic Alicia and Jason will talk about throughout the episode. This is the episode where Alicia realizes she’s grown up. Two, as set decorator Beth Kushnick tweeted, Alicia and Jason’s hotel room is Peter’s office set repurposed. I’m sure it’s for budget/convenience reasons, but that’s… odd, no? Three, I love the deep staging in the shots with Alicia and Jason simultaneously on the phone.

The handicapped bathroom thing is still a thing. I can’t wait until it’s not a thing. 

Eli looks really uncomfortable holding Tom the Dog.

As Mike walks Alicia through invoking spousal privilege cheerfully, Jason starts to kiss Alicia’s neck. She pushes him away because he’s distracting her from something important. He’s proved his point.

(You’ll recall this, from Death of a Client, I’m sure: http://juliannamargulies.org/photos/albums/Television/The%20Good%20Wife/S4/caps/418/4x18_10000919.jpg. What to make of the parallel/contrast…) (Toying with the idea that “grow up” is a rejection of this sort of distracting behavior, but the situations are different enough—calls with bosses/about grand juries versus bothersome calls with paranoid clients—that I’m not sure I can reasonably claim that. Plus, is giving someone a hand job in public really mature? It’s certainly adult, but is it mature?)

Then Grace phones Alicia with a problem about college. “Well, maybe it’s a deferred admittance? Did you check the website?” Alicia asks. The admissions office of some unspecified college thinks Grace plagiarized her admissions essay and, I guess, is holding her decision. You’d think they’d just reject her. And what school is this? What admissions process works this way?

Grand jury stuff happens. Bathroom vents, etc. There’s a juror who isn’t buying Mr. Schue’s line of questioning. (What is the character’s name on this show? Conner?)

Alicia’s wig looks fucking fantastic in this episode. Alicia looks fucking fantastic in this episode. I love her dress.

Anyway. The problem is a program called Genuine Thought, which cross-references pieces of writing with existing pieces of writing to detect plagiarism. Alicia asks Grace’s guidance counselor if he’s read Grace’s essay—it’s “intensely personal.” She doesn’t think there’s any way the other essays in the database contain the same family history. The guidance counselor thinks Grace just pasted her experiences into an existing template. That’s weird. Didn’t the guidance counselor help her craft her essay? Isn’t that why Alicia sends her kids to the fancy private school and not a public school—so they’ll get into more prestigious colleges? If Grace’s experiences sounded so commonplace, shouldn’t he have told her that?

“I’m not getting into college,” Grace worries in the hallway. Well, if you only applied to this ONE school, that’s probably true. Why would you apply to only one school? This guidance counselor is really failing at his job. When I have kids, remind me to never send them to Capstone.

(I wish the writers had done more research on the college admissions process. It’s bizarre and secretive and the exact type of thing they’d love to explore more deeply if only they knew more about it.)

(Hey, can you tell that even though it’s been four years since I applied to college, I still have a lot of thoughts and feelings on the topic?)  

Case stuff happens. It’s interesting, but I don’t need to recap it. Basically: learn what a straw buyer is, and know that Cary and Diane’s squabble over which argument to use came back to bite them. They lose the case, and now have to decide damages (that is, how much Harry will need to pay the gun store because of the defamatory billboard.)

“You’re late,” Eli reprimands Alicia when she doesn’t show up at the grand jury exactly on time. “I have a life,” Alicia replies. New strategy: Alicia’s not invoking spousal privilege.

A frustrated Lucca starts off act two. She’s working at her desk, in the middle of the craziness on the 27th floor, unable to focus due to the commotion around her.

Sparky slides in and begins to spark. “Hey, why so down? Turn that frown upside down!” he teases. It doesn’t work—Lucca tells him to go to hell. Hehe. I’m really enjoying this friendship. I’m really enjoying Jason and Lucca, in general (especially Lucca).

“I’m likin’ it here,” Jason (who is given generous lunch breaks, constant praise, and has a workplace romance going) says as someone rams into Lucca’s chair. “I need an office,” Lucca says, and Jason tells her to take an office that just so happens to be empty. Lucca protests, but she’s cut off by Alicia showing up.

Jason explains the office stealing plot, Lucca doesn’t play along, Alicia and Jason exchange concerned looks behind Lucca’s back (literally, I mean).

“She’s not happy, is she?” Alicia asks when Lucca heads upstairs. “Not much,” Jason replies. Alicia sighs. “We came in as peers. I get the office, she gets the cubicle.”

Alicia pivots after acknowledging Lucca’s unhappiness: she has to hire Jason for freelance work. He assumes it’s for Peter, but it’s for Grace. “Oh, my God. My family needs a full-time investigator. That’s not normal, is it?” Alicia realizes. No, it’s not, but it’s probably more normal if you’re the wife of a sitting governor. You’re not normal, Alicia.

Lucca’s working on the COTW now, which is a nice way of tying things together and illustrating the subtle but important Lucca storyline that weaves its way through this episode. Mostly this scene is just “case stuff happens”, but Diane comes up with a plan to countersue. The client, who owns a motel, loses reservations every time there’s a story about gun violence in the news, so Gloria’s is directly affecting his business. And Abernathy likes this argument because it gives him the chance to preside over an unprecedented case that could make it to the Supreme Court.

Alicia and Diane meet for dinner. “You’re not drinking?” Diane observes. (She’s having a martini.) “I’m trying to go easier,” Alicia says. Awww. Good.

Diane gets right down to business: has Alicia thought more about the all-female partnership (a distinction Diane keeps making!) offer? “I don’t want to hurt Cary,” Alicia replies. Good. Good. She’ll probably end up hurting him, but still—good that she’s saying these words. It’s not enough, but it’s not a complete lack of recognition of the issue and lack of concern, either.

As I said last week, this all-female partnership idea isn’t a bad one. I have no need to see Alicia and Diane team up and become BFFs or anything (that’s never going to happen), but I do think they would run a firm well together. It wouldn’t be conflict free, but the case for an Alicia/Diane firm is a convincing one. Loyalty to Cary shouldn’t make Alicia stay in a workplace environment she’s not happy in. It also shouldn’t be ignored, so I’m interested to see how Alicia will navigate this situation.

(Diane also notes that Cary and David Lee are already making moves against her—and that’s true. I don’t believe we’ve seen any evidence that Diane actively wanted to push them out before they started in with their paranoid bullshit.)

What Alicia gets from this conversation that’s of immediate relevance to her is that she has leverage now. She didn’t in 7x14, but now she does, so she resumes the conversation: Lucca isn’t happy. Lucca needs more to do. She shouldn’t be in a cubicle and doing gruntwork when Alicia thinks she is “one of the smartest lawyers in the firm.” “You’re asking me to promote her?” Diane wonders. “I want to be at a firm that recognizes talent,” Alicia replies. So, that’s a yes. Diane says she’ll take another look.

So everything’s going well! And even better! Alicia’s new boy toy has walked in! Alicia starts sporting a big grin and excuses herself from the table… only to find that Jason is kissing some blonde woman. She stops and stares at them. The camera pulls back and Alicia fades into the crowd.

I’m going to pretend this scene plays out silently. “Everybody Hurts” is… way too on the nose. It’s not quite, “MY LOVE IS UNREQUITED!!! MY LOVE IS UNREQUITED!!!!!!!!!!! MY LOVE IS UNREQUITED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” bad (that’s 4x19’s final scene for anyone wondering), but I prefer a little more subtlety in music choices.

The tequila returns at the top of the next act, but at least there are two glasses. One’s for Alicia, and the other is for Lucca. So this means Alicia must’ve phoned Lucca and asked her to come over. Alicia must’ve felt pain, then reached out to a friend to discuss it. I like it.

Lucca suggests that Alicia phone Jason—maybe it was just a friend. Yeah. No. We saw that kiss, and Alicia’s glare is the appropriate response to Lucca’s suggestion. (It was just a friend. A friend whom Jason was physically involved with.)

“Why does it even matter?” Alicia wonders. Good question. “You’re the one drinking. Maybe it doesn’t,” Lucca replies. Good answer. It clearly does matter to Alicia, on some level, but it doesn’t have to.

“I mean, I didn’t want to… marry him. I don’t want to… tie him down,” Alicia continues. “And you’re married,” Lucca points out.

“I have issues on this front,” Alicia admits. She made the connection to cheating before I could! “Husbands who screw around, who lie, who leave me in tears.” So. Alicia and Peter, post-scandal, have fluctuated between doing terribly and doing fairly well. They’re best as occasional lovers and peers who see each other occasionally and support each other when it counts. For a while, I thought that’s what Alicia needed to be happy. I think Alicia thought so, too. But there’s been something that’s crept into even the best post-scandal times for Alicia and Peter: the cheating. It’s hard for her to fully let him in and be happy, even as good as they are together, with as much as they share, and with how well he knows her. She can’t do it in season two, and then she finds out about Peter and Kalinda and he’s out. When the political couple act in season four turns into a promise to renew vows, Alicia’s one condition is that Peter swear “that you will never put me through the same thing again.” When she ends it in 5x17, the prostitutes re-enter the conversation, an unresolved issue from the past. She mentions them in 6x05, the descriptions getting more and more paranoid (two at a time!). I think it’s pretty fair to state that at this point, Alicia’s never going to forgive Peter for that in a way that would allow them to proceed with a fulfilling intimate relationship. And that Alicia won’t be happy in this limbo, because that issue will always come back into play. And I think she’s realized that, so she’s done.

Now, she’s moving on and realizing just how deeply Peter’s affairs affected her. She hinted at this last year in 6x18, with Peter: “Love is a word that is so exhausted. I wish it meant something to me.” She hints at it again here, by acknowledging her “issues on this front.” Time hasn’t healed the wound. Maybe that’s because Alicia didn’t put much effort into repairing her marriage—she was always too hesitant to truly let herself be vulnerable enough for that. Maybe it’s because she put in enough effort (even if not as much as she could have) and realized the same doubts creeping in again and again. Maybe it’s because no amount of effort could’ve saved that relationship. In any case, it’s the awareness that matters here. Even if she’s forgiven Peter enough to be civil with him, to support him politically, to stand by his side, she didn’t emerge from the experience without scars.

“You’re not in tears now,” Lucca notes. “You’re right. I’m not!” Alicia observes herself. I don’t think this is as meaningful as Alicia thinks it is (tears would be quite extreme for this situation), but if it puts Alicia in a better mood, sure! She’s not in tears. She’s handling this better than she’s giving herself credit for. As she puts it, it’s a sign of growth. (As Lucca adds, “Or something.”)

“Scar tissue. Maturity,” Alicia comments. “Cynicism.” All of the above. Plus that her not-boyfriend of two seconds kissing a random woman at a bar is not really comparable to her husband of 15 years whom she has two children with banging prostitutes for the whole world to see.

“You expect the worst in people, you’ll never be disappointed,” Lucca says. “Right,” Alicia hesitantly agrees. (I feel like Alicia’s not really capable of defaulting to expecting the worst in people.)

“You think this is the worst of Jason?” Alicia follows up, still obsessing. Is this really that bad?! Lucca walks back her comment by reminding Alicia that Jason didn’t make her any promises.

Alicia’s silent. “He didn’t, did he?” Lucca questions. Alicia sighs. “No, but I was becoming… invested. I liked it. I liked being with him.” Yes she did. What we saw last week? Sex was not the main thing going on there—companionship was.

“Have fun. Start your own harem. When you stop having fun, say goodbye” Lucca advises after Alicia asks if continuing the relationship with Jason would mean she’d become a face in his harem.

So now I have to ask, and this is more of an existential/theoretical question than something actually about Alicia: is it possible to just decide things? If Alicia’s becoming invested, can she just say, “Eh, how about I don’t feel that and instead feel this other thing!”? Can she shift her perspective that easily, just because she wants to? Her failure to be able to do this is exactly why she’s here, drinking, having this epiphany: she decided she was just going to sleep around while being married to Peter; now she’s realizing that maybe her emotions aren’t going to fall in line with that plan. The answer to this question is that I don’t know; it depends entirely on how the writers want to play this. Maybe a perspective shift will be all it takes for someone with Alicia’s personality to stop wanting more. Maybe she can take steps to shut down things she knows she doesn’t want—Will asked her if she could just decide to end their relationship, and she could, but her strategy involved leaving his firm—but if she’s getting invested, can she stop herself from getting invested just by saying she will stop herself? Easier said than done.

It’s also the question that Alicia asks. She hears Lucca’s suggestion and blushes a bit. “Oh, God. This isn’t who I am!”

“You don’t know who you are. No one knows who they are. Talk to Jason. He likes you. And maybe it was just a friend,” Lucca tells her. I was going to read way too much into this line, but I’m not. Instead, I’m going to focus on Lucca saying that Alicia should say goodbye when she stops having fun. She’s saying to try things that are out of her comfort zone, see what happens, and always keep in mind that there’s no obligation to stay. (It certainly works for Lucca—this was her approach in 7x12 with Rowby.) Alicia can keep having sex with Jason. If it gets too emotional, she can stop, and that’s it, and now she’ll know. Don’t expect anything of anyone and they’ll never disappoint you. (That’s Lucca in 7x10.)

Does this conversation make everything perfect between Alicia and Jason? Does Alicia suddenly take Lucca’s advice and start gathering men for her harem? Yeah, no. The next day at work, she’s just evasive and awkward around Jason.

(Alicia in glasses alert!)

She doesn’t know if they’re still on for tonight. She’ll get back to him. She fidgets awkwardly, answers questions unclearly, and is off in her own little world.

(I’m really sad the gorgeous dress is gone. They should’ve used it in one of those episodes that takes place on one day only so no one changes wardrobe. I love that dress.)

“Dear God, I’m falling apart,” she even says at one point. Problems not solved. Alicia may not be in tears now, but is this really preferable? There are many unresolved issues here and, as Alicia recognizes, they go all the way back to Peter. (And Will, and the voicemail.)

Good news for Grace—the plagiarism software flags clichés. I don’t want Grace to go to whatever fictional school is stupid enough to make allegations against a governor’s daughter without investigating what was flagged as plagiarism, tbh.

“Hey. Everything is normal here, right?” Jason asks because of Alicia’s behavior. “As normal as it can be,” Alicia replies. Uh huh. “Okay, so then we’ll just… reschedule lunch,” Jason says. Alicia looks down and nods.

Diane takes Alicia’s words seriously: Lucca gets to argue in court now, on a case with two of three name partners.

Okay so this would be “case stuff happens” but I have to complain. Harry says that 12 people were shot within 5 blocks of his motel over one weekend. Ok. I mean, that’s not okay—obviously it’s not okay, it’s a fucking crisis that there’s that much violence—but okay, I have accepted that this is the argument the writers are using. 75% of his guests checked out early after that, and eight guests cancelled upcoming reservations. And it’s the pattern more than the exception. And 200 guns sold by Gloria’s were used in shootings within a mile of the motel. So we have specific examples, a specific pattern that indicates there’s probably a causal connection between gun violence and check-outs, and an area that’s restricted to the neighborhood immediately surrounding the motel. Got it?

Hoff is all, but maybe your motel just sucks! Right. That would definitely explain why the levels of checkouts fluctuate exactly with the amount of gun violence in the area. His service just happened to get worse on those days. I don’t understand. How does a general suggestion refute a pattern? Is the pattern not a strong one? Is it just a general downward trend that doesn’t let up (which definitely could be about bad service), or is it that he consistently performs at one level until there’s an incident, at which point there’s a massive drop in customers, a drop that doesn’t persist once the area gets out of the news? I want to look at this data.

Sorry. Apparently I get annoyed about causal claims. Or maybe I’m reading too much into it. If team LAL did a shitty job of presenting the stats, then this refutation is easily enough to say they didn’t prove their case. The point that there could be another explanation is a good one. This alternate explanation does not strike me as a compelling one.

Jason finds something useful: other business owners in the same area who experienced the same losses at the same time. Oh! So the specific timing is relevant again!

When Lucca returns to her cubicle, none of her stuff is there. Hmmm. Did Jason steal an office for her? “I didn’t move you there. Diane did,” Jason tells her. Oooh. Thank you, Diane! Thank you, Alicia!

“Diane? What? Why?” Lucca asks. Jason doesn’t know, but he congratulates her. Lucca cheers up, then notices Alicia through the glass wall and either pieces together what happened or just wants to do something for someone else.

Lucca wants to talk to Jason in private, so they go into her new office (squee!) and she asks him directly who he was with at the Avenue Tavern last night. “You know, this seems like a subject that we don’t usually delve into,” Jason deflects. “Yes, but this is not usual,” Lucca replies. Lots of abnormal and unusual things in this episode (Alicia and Jason are as normal as they can be, Alicia’s abnormal family needs an investigator).

“Alicia saw you,” Lucca explains. And then we get to see Alicia, whose glass office wall looks into Lucca’s office. Aw, cute. I want a scene of them holding up messages for each other through the class like in the You Belong with Me music video before this show ends. Either that or some expert deep staging, which is probably more likely to happen. Though, actually, two adults passing notes to each other via written signs despite computers and phones and the ability to walk is something I think the writers would find a lot of humor in so I am not going to rule out the possibility of that happening. The NSA can’t listen! It can be a cute device they’ll use until I’m so fucking tired of it that I’m sorry I wished for it in the first place! There are still 5 episodes left, make it happen, writers! (This paragraph is a mix of seriousness and sarcasm and I’m not sure what I’m trying to say. I’m conflicted.)

Jason has to sit down to discuss this. The woman was an old friend. He wants to know if Alicia’s upset. Lucca asks, accusatorily, why she’d be upset—there was no commitment. Jason seems upset that he’s inadvertently hurt Alicia. I think both Alicia and Jason just want something casual. It’s just that those pesky feelings are getting in the way.

Alicia’s turn at the grand jury! Are we going to get another Another Ham Sandwich? YOU ARE OUT OF CONTROL!

Nah. We’re not. We’re just going to get a scene that amounts to “grand jury stuff happens” and it goes well for Alicia. And she doesn’t invoke spousal privilege, which means… this better work.

Court stuff happens. More tension between Cary and Diane (with Lucca in the mix now).

Okay, what the hell does tourism in Chicago as a whole—a big city!—have to do with eighteen businesses within a one mile radius that are directly affected by particular incidents of crime in that one mile radius? How is this an argument against a specific pattern of losses???

Now Alicia and Grace are meeting with the representative from Unspecified College, which must be in Chicago because I don’t understand why the representative from the college would be there—in any event, really. Oh wait sorry, she’s the Admissions DIRECTOR, so it makes even less sense for her to be there in person.

Alicia submitted Grace’s essay to Genuine Thought and found out what she “plagiarized”: the Sermon on the Mount. (Or, as Alicia says, “the Sermon on the f… … Mount.”) The way this is edited, I can’t tell if Alicia actually says “fucking” and we don’t hear it or if she catches herself. She looks like she’s going to catch herself, but we cut to Grace before we can really see if she does or not.

The admissions rep does not take kindly to this. “Well, I think we should leave it at that,” says the guidance counselor at the school Alicia’s paying probably $25,000 a year to send her daughter to. “Oh, like hell,” Alicia replies.

Did Mike’s plan work?! Maybe not. Lloyd Garber’s been called back… uh oh! And Eli can’t get to the handicapped bathroom! Oh no!

Alicia is at home wearing some sort of fuzzy sweater thing and eating a slice of pizza. How do you eat so much pizza? Do you not get sick of pizza?

Someone knocks on the door and Alicia goes, “it’s unlocked; come on in!” ALICIA. WHY. You’re the first lady of Illinois. Why are you leaving your door unlocked? And we know you don’t have a doorman (or that you have the worst doorman in the entire fucking world).

Alicia is then surprised to see that it’s Jason at the door. “Oh. I thought you were Lucca,” she says. Huh. Maybe this is why you shouldn’t leave your door unlocked.

“You want me to come back?” Jason asks. “No,” Alicia says. “I’m eating pizza.”

“That is the saddest piece of pizza I’ve ever seen,” Jason comments. It truly is. “Yes. Like Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree,” Alicia jokes, looking at the pizza. That is the perfect comparison. Alicia throws the pizza back on a plate.

“I think that I offended you,” Jason says. (It’s refreshing on this show to see a character who fears that he’s offended someone and then goes to talk to that person, makes sure they’re free to talk, and explains.) (This is a dig at basically all the characters. Diane does this with her paranoia, Alicia avoids difficult conversations until she knows exactly what she wants to say, Will was not big on having uncomfortable conversations or talking in person, Eli (and Owen and Veronica) is not big on choosing appropriate moments to talk, etc.)

“I met an old friend at Avenue Tavern,” Jason begins to explain. “Jason, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Alicia interrupts calmly. “I’m an adult. I know it may not look like it from… this pizza… but I am. And I am not under the impression that we committed to each other, or have expressed… vows, or are going steady, or…”

Alicia is an adult. She’s a grown up. She has grown up. She makes her own choices and has to deal with the consequences.

Jason continues to explain. “She’s a friend from New York that I haven’t seen in a while.”

“Seriously, Jason, I’m fine,” Alicia stops him again. And she actually sounds fine. “I’m here, and thrilled that you stopped by, and thrilled that we’re talking. And I do not need some profession of faith. You don’t need a ticket to get through that door there.” YES, I AM ALSO THRILLED THAT YOU ARE TALKING!

“It didn’t mean anything,” Jason tries again.

“You’re still explaining,” Alicia notes. “I… am married. If anyone should be explaining, it should be me.” Holy shit, did Alicia just admit/recognize this? Woah.

“So I… I came here with this plan… and now I… I don’t know what I should do,” Jason says. Dammit show I don’t want to keep comparing Jason to Will but he just said he came over to her apartment with a plan; how am I supposed to NOT make the comparison? (He was totally gonna ask her to go steady, wasn’t he?)

“You should come around the island and kiss me,” Alicia says, trying to dismiss the more-than-friendship+sex part of the relationship talk. “That’s what this is called? An island?” Jason babbles.

And so the music swells and Alicia and Jason make out.

“What if I’m jealous of your husband?” Jason asks, again suggesting that this relationship can’t just stay a flirtation. (The moment to say goodbye because it’s not (just) fun anymore is fast approaching; may have already passed.) “Don’t be,” Alicia replies unhelpfully. (I’ve already been over my feelings on “just don’t feel that way” as a non-solution to problems.)

“My daughter’s home in 45 minutes,” Alicia notes. Oh, finally an acknowledgement that Grace isn’t always around for all of this. (To be fair, we got one in 7x16 too.) Aaand we cut away from Alicia and Jason to give them some privacy and for a message from our sponsors.

Alicia threatens a class action unless the admissions director… I’m not sure what. Unless she considers Grace’s essay? Unless she admits Grace regardless of the essay quality? Shrug. The important part is that Grace is so inspired by her mother’s abilities that she declares she wants to be a lawyer. (Which is something that she also declared in season two, but who’s keeping track other than all of the fans?) That makes Alicia happy. I don’t quite get why this subplot was here, but okay. I would’ve preferred one where Alicia has to help Grace decide which college to attend, or where Alicia and Grace celebrate Grace getting into her top choice, or where Alicia cheers Grace up after a rejection, not that Governor Florrick’s daughter is going to get rejected from anywhere, or anything else related to the college admissions process that wasn’t this, but okay. (Kiki pointed out to me that this Genuine Thought thing is totally a case of the week the writers would have made the center of an episode of season eight, if there were going to be a season eight. But there’s not, so now it’s here.)

Team LAL and Harry lose the case. But it’s okay, because Abernathy comes up with the best fucking resolution to a case I’ve seen in a long time on this show. There will be damages for keeping the billboard up… a fee of ten cents per day that the billboard isn’t taken down. The horror. Abernathy takes great delight in delivering his decision. Harry pays the court $40, so the billboard will stay up for 400 more days. Hehehehehe. I love it. TGW isn’t usually so clear about what it wants viewers to think, but it’s saying loud and clear here that business management as irresponsible as what’s going on at Gloria’s is wrong. What a great send-off for Abernathy: “She doesn’t want to look at a victim’s face? Well, that’s too bad. She’s going to have to. That’s it.” I don’t know how to make emojis on my computer, so just imagine there are a hundred of the applause emoji here.

Alicia and Lucca celebrate Lucca’s new office. “I feel like I’ve arrived,” Lucca says. “You look it. Put your feet up,” she directs. Lucca does, laughing. (Little moments like this <3333)

“Are the associates still hating you?” Alicia wonders. “Let’s see. Hey, Bob!” Lucca calls to one of them. He glares in return. “Noooo, they’ve come around,” she jokes. Hehehehe.

I’ve seen a few comments (probably not from anyone who will read this) suggesting that Lucca exists, in this episode, just to be the perfect supportive BFF for Alicia; that Lucca has no personality or wants of her own because she just wants to help out Alicia. This is blatantly false. Yes, Lucca exists to be Alicia’s friend, much in the same way that Peter exists to be Alicia’s husband, Diane exists to be Alicia’s boss, and Cary exists to be Alicia’s rival turned friend. Nearly every character on this show exists because they are connected to Alicia. That’s their reason for being relevant to her story. But that doesn’t mean those characters all stop there. Diane, for example, is, of course, more than Alicia’s boss. She is her own person—we just happen to meet her and follow her story because she’s connected to Alicia. What upsets me about this criticism being aimed at Lucca, especially this week, is that Lucca has her own wants and desires, and they’re given plenty of screentime. This week, Lucca may help Alicia out, but she also wants to get out of the cubicle office and reacts positively to receiving her own office. Alicia helps out Lucca while Lucca helps out Alicia, which is a sign of a healthy friendship that’s beneficial to and satisfying for both parties involved in it. So to say Lucca just exists to prop up Alicia, and nothing else, is incorrect. She may not receive as much of the spotlight, but if you’re going to block out a thread that comes up multiple times throughout the episode (and stems out of weeks of build-up), that’s on you, not the show.

(Also, it’s doing a disservice to Alicia, too, to essentially say that the friendship amounts only to Lucca supporting Alicia. Alicia being willing and eager to help Lucca demonstrates that she’s thinking about people other than herself, and that she’s putting work into maintaining relationships with people she cares about. That’s meaningful.)

“Hey, Jason’s coming,” Lucca notes. “You both alright?” “I think we are,” Alicia replies with a smile. “You talked?” Lucca asks. Alicia nods.

Jason congratulates Lucca on the office (it is a nice office!), and Lucca invites him to join her and Alicia as they celebrate. “It seems like a girl thing,” Jason declines. “We’ll make an allowance,” Alicia protests. Hehe. Jason agrees to join them; Cary walks up and calls Alicia over.

Cary is suspicious of Lucca’s sudden promotion. “Lucca’s good,” Alicia offers as explanation. “Seems like yesterday when we were,” Cary reminds her. Then he asks if Diane approached her about making LAL an all-female firm. Alicia looks at Lucca, happy in her new office, and says no. It’s that thing she does where she can lie convincingly because what she’s saying is technically true. Diane made it very clear she wanted an all-female partnership and wanted to buy Cary out, not push him out. These mean basically the same thing if you’re Cary: your status as a name partner is still at risk. But it’s not technically a lie.

Which isn’t to say it couldn’t destroy Alicia and Cary’s friendship. It could. Easily. And Cary wouldn’t be wrong to feel betrayed over this.

Then it’s celebration time! Alicia/Jason and Lucca go to a restaurant. “You two look like you want to go home,” Lucca observes. They assure her she’s wrong and toast to her success. (Lucca is totally a third wheel right now, but a very gracious third wheel.)

Lucca declares that she wants chips, and that she’ll go get them… leaving Alicia and Jason together at the table.

Jason puts his arm behind Alicia, and she moves in closer. YOU’RE IN PUBLIC, YOU TWO, I begin to scream at my TV. (Also, is the grand jury making the news?)

Alicia whispers into Jason’s ear, clearly something dirty (“I wish I could have your tongue to chain around my hips…”) (Can’t stop won’t stop with the delicious linguistics jokes.)

“Oh my God, Mrs. Florrick, the mouth on you,” Jason replies. YOU’RE IN PUBLIC, YOU TWO. Their noses are touching. And he’s calling her Mrs. Florrick. “It’s one of my best features,” Alicia says. “One of the best. Not the absolute best,” Jason flirts.

She moves in for the kiss—though, really, what’s happened so far would be damning enough for the press—but then realizes they’re not alone. She and Jason occupy the right side of the frame, so there’s lots of negative space, which emphasizes that they’re squished together on one half of an expansive frame.

“We… are in public…” Jason notes as Alicia begins to unbuckle his pants. “You are a constant source of surprise.” (A close up of their mouths, millimeters apart.)

“I wasted the last twenty years. I’m not gonna waste the next twenty,” Alicia declares. And that’s the biggest line of the episode. It signals a shift in Alicia and Jason’s relationship—if Alicia’s no longer concerned with what’s in the press, that’s more than just Alicia having some fun. She’s effectively considering herself single now, but the night before, she was talking about explaining her marriage. Now she’s acting as though that marriage won’t affect her relationship with Jason in any way, and not in the “What? I’m a public figure? I’ve never heard such nonsense!” way, but rather in the “I am making the conscious decision to prioritize this over keeping up the appearances I know I’m supposed to keep up” way.

Which means, obviously, that this moment has huge implications for the state of Alicia and Peter’s union. Alicia is drawing a line. The past twenty years are on one side (I assume this is the number the writers are currently going with for how long Alicia and Peter have been married) and the future is on the other. What she’d done in the past was a waste; what she’ll do in the future will be different. This changes everything. (Or, at least, it suggests that it will.)

What does Alicia mean by a waste? It’s not entirely obvious. I think she’s referring specifically to her marriage— twenty years isn’t a long enough time period to also cover the time she and Peter dated. Her marriage is the frame that’s contained (and confined) her life for the last twenty years. Every move she’s made has been within that frame—and she’s sick of it. She feels she’s wasted two decades inside the marriage. I don’t think this is Alicia saying no part of her marriage was good, and I don’t take it as a criticism of Peter (I wasted; she places the blame on herself). Instead, I think this is Alicia rejecting the thing that’s anchored her life for twenty years, saying that she wish she hadn’t let it.

I also think that if you pressed Alicia for more details, she would eagerly admit that her marriage hasn’t been all bad—not before the scandal, and not always after. And I think she’d admit even more readily that good things have happened to her in the last two decades, like watching her children grow up (even if she claims she might not like them), self-discovery, finding her own way at work, etc. Which brings me to another point: this line has a very specific context. Alicia doesn’t say it as part of a thorough, emotional reflection on the past. Instead, she says it as a quick way to explain to a new lover (to whom she’s probably not going to go into great detail on the pros and cons of her life, especially not while she’s unbuckling his pants) why she’s changed her attitude. It’s important that she views the last twenty years as a waste, but what’s more important in this line is her stated intention to actively not waste any more time. The marriage isn’t going to contain her whole life any longer because she won’t let it.

However, I do think Alicia, especially since the voicemail reveal, regrets, as a whole, the time she spent married to Peter. I think that view lacks nuance (you learn from your mistakes, etc.), but that doesn’t mean it’s not something she’s been thinking. She’s wondered about making different choices, like choosing Will at Georgetown over Peter. She’s wondered what the point of it all was. She’s wondered if she really even likes the kids she’s dedicated much of her life to. In many ways, she absolutely seems to think she wasted twenty years. I still think this line is mostly meant as a shorthand for saying, “I don’t like the way my marriage defined my life for so long; I’m moving on” more than anything else, even if it undeniably harkens back to her questions about wasting time and making the wrong choices. Maybe with more distance she’ll be able to see the good and the bad, but she’s still recovering, assessing the damage, and figuring out her next moves.

We get to hear Alicia’s next bit of sexytalk as she gives Jason a handjob: “It’s on the front page of the Sun Times. The governor’s wife was arrested for performing a lewd act on an employee. After the act was described, finally they all agreed…” and Alicia lowers her voice, the camera pulls away, and the episode ends. Well, damn.

I’m conflicted about Alicia giving Jason a handjob in public. I have no problem with it (though, like, what about the next person who has to sit there? Also, I don’t want to think about Kalinda and Nick and this reminds me too much of 4x02.) or with Alicia doing what she wants, but I worry about how the kids would react if this really did make headline news. Does Alicia no longer care about that at all? Really? Or is that just a dimension we’re not supposed to consider because the handjob is more a symbol of a shift in Alicia’s behavior than anything that will have repercussions in the press?

I think it’s a symbol, one that functions reasonably well. My concerns about the kids aside, it matters that this scene takes place in public. Alicia isn’t saying in theory she’d be okay with the press seeing that she’s not Saint Alicia; she’s being whoever the fuck she wants to be in public. She’s taking action. She means what she says. She knows what she’s doing.

And what is she doing? She’s directly and explicitly (in both senses of the word) declaring she’s not the Good Wife everyone’s expected her to be. She’s done with that label confining her, the way it has for the last twenty* years.

*I say twenty even though the Good Wife label is primarily about the political wife. When Alicia’s introduced in the Pilot script, the description reads, “She’s always been the good girl—the good girl who became the good wife, then the good mom: devoted, struggling not to outshine her husband.” If this description is any indication, there are two meanings to Good Wife. One is the political Good Wife; the other is more insidious and refers to expectations placed on women, at all stages of their lives, who have nothing to do with politics. Alicia had to be a “good wife” for much of her marriage, then a Good Wife when Peter went into politics.

Ack, I was going to end on the bullet point two above, but I can’t, because I remembered I wanted to ramble about the Good Girl Theory some more. Briefly, the GGT just means the idea that Alicia has only stayed with Peter this whole time out of fear of not being a good girl. Examples include: Alicia doesn’t divorce Peter in the Pilot because she fears that doing so would be Bad, and that wouldn’t be consistent with her self-image; Alicia leaves LG because she’s afraid of leaving Peter for Will, even though she desperately wants to, since leaving Peter for Will would not be the Good Girl thing to do. You get the idea. My problem with it is that it reduces a lot of complex situations to “Alicia’s a good girl, and good girls don’t ____” and that it suggests that Alicia’s aware of what she wants but denying herself. BUT. It’s not entirely wrong. Alicia does like to maintain that consistent self-image, both so she feels like she has a sense of her identity and because it’s super beneficial to her if she appears like a supportive spouse (that’s where she gets power and status she can use to her advantage!). Alicia DOES fear what would happen if she didn’t behave how she thinks that Alicia Florrick would behave (5x20—she doesn’t know if she’s a “cleaner” like her dad used to say; she doesn’t know who she’s “being faithful to”; all of season six is her identity crisis; in 7x17 she says “that’s not who I am” two days before this decision to not play Good Wife anymore).

What has made the Good Girl Theory false, in my view, over the years, is that it’s never the complete picture. It’s not all about being a Good Girl (which is a very loaded, very sexist label), and it’s not her only motivation. In the Pilot, she’s also confused and disoriented; she’s not just thinking about what role she’s supposed to play. She has kids and financial problems to worry about. She’s been betrayed and humiliated. She’s lost her “friends.” It’s not just about being a Good Girl. In season four, she isn’t sure Will would provide her with the relationship she wants, and things are going so well with Peter. She’s getting the power she likes, they’re on good terms, and stability and maintaining a family unit is incredibly appealing. But I wonder, now, if the Good Girl Theory is perhaps more accurate. Since she’s already addressed the other reasons to stay—she’s done with Peter romantically; he’s no longer as powerful as he was and she’s made a reputation for herself; she’s able to picture herself with someone else; the kids are grown--- is the Good Girl Theory (and that pesky grand jury…) the last large hurdle to clear before she’ll consider a divorce? Is her decision to give Jason a handjob at a restaurant a sign that she’s gearing up to clear that hurdle? I don’t know, but I’m hoping it is.)

At this point, I’m very confident that this last scene of 7x17 is a game-changer. But there are five episodes to go, and Alicia’s not single or done being Good Wife until she signs divorce papers, so… hopefully I haven’t gotten too over-confident quite yet.

[florrickandassociates]

TGW Thoughts: 7x16-- Hearing

Thoughts on 7x16 under the cut!

Usually, when I tune into a TV show, the characters don’t look back at me. That’s not the case at the start of Hearing, which starts with a very jarring image of Alicia and Jason, naked, in Alicia’s bed, staring at her TV. I call this a jarring image for many reasons. It’s not just that it’s a striking shot composition (characters looking into the camera; characters in the center of the frame). It’s not just that it’s Alicia and Jason. It’s not even just that they’re naked. It’s a jarring image because in seven seasons, we’ve never seen Alicia behave like this—ever. She and Jason are spending time together, and they’re not just fucking. They’re both engrossed in the movie, and while they’re both (at least mostly) naked, they’re not cuddling or messing around as they watch (they’re not even in a position where that would be possible). What they’re doing is hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. And they’re doing it in Alicia’s personal space. You don’t need more than one frame to understand that this is big.

But, of course, we get more than one frame: a lot more. We also get audio of lions roaring and people screaming on TV. Are we watching a Darkness at Noon spinoff with wild animals? Before we find out what Alicia and Jason are watching, we get to watch them watching. They’re snacking on tortilla chips (Alicia takes a bite of one and then feeds the rest to Jason, aww) and reacting to the images on screen.

(Has Alicia always had her TV at the foot of her bed? I thought her computer was there and the TV was to the right of her bed.)

“What is this, again?” Alicia asks, confused and mildly horrified by the images on screen. “Roar,” Jason answers. “Is it real?” Alicia asks, eyes glued to the screen. “Oh yeah,” Jason informs her. “But the lion bit her,” Alicia protests. This is actually a real film and the list of injuries is horrifying. And fascinating.

We finally cut away from Alicia and Jason looking at the screen to see what they’re watching, but we quickly return to them in the same position. “This is insane; it’s like a snuff film,” Alicia remarks. At last, she breaks eye contact with the screen to look at Jason and tease him: “You are weird.” They laugh, and she turns her attention back to the movie. He may be weird… but Alicia’s weird, too. She wouldn’t have picked out this movie herself, no, but she’s enthralled by it never the less. She’s also learning something about Jason here—or, at least, something about Jason’s taste in movies.

… cut to Jason and Alicia making out in the shower. Alicia’s phone rings, and she doesn’t answer it.

… cut to Alicia (wearing a sweater) and Jason (shirtless) eating ice cream out of the carton. Cute, fun, couple stuff. This is the kind of day Alicia and Peter probably had when they were a young couple… and the kind of day we never saw her have with Will. (Yes, I’m going to be comparing Jason to Will. The show goes there, so I’m going to, too. I’ll flesh this out more when I get to that line.)

“So, why were you investigating me?” Alicia ventures. “Was I investigating you?” Jason sparks. “Twenty-four hours of honesty,” Alicia says with her mouth full. “I didn’t know what I was getting in to,” Jason admits. “And what were you getting into?” Alicia probes. “I don’t know. You were a new boss, you just stole an election…” Jason reminds her. “I didn’t steal,” Alicia says quietly. “I wanted to make sure you paid me,” Jason says. “Really? You thought I wouldn’t pay you?” Alicia wonders. “Hey. I’ve been screwed over by a lot of people,” Jason shares. Alicia looks at him. Cut to…

… Alicia and Jason in bed, later. She’s topless again, so we’ve clearly skipped over, er, something. (TGW isn’t a fan of gratuitous sex scenes. It’s important that in this sequence, even though there’s plenty of nudity, the focus is on the conversations, not the sex.) He’s reading The David Foster Wallace Reader and she’s cuddling with him. Again: cute.

“Like who?” Alicia wonders. “Hmm?” “Who screwed you over?” Alicia asks. “Oh. People I used to work with,” Jason answers. Alicia asks what people.

Jason hesitates. “I’m not trying to interrogate you,” Alicia tells him. “I’m just trying to have a conversation. I talk, you talk.” A CONVERSATION?????????? ALICIA’S HAVING SEX IN HER OWN BED AND CUDDLING AND SPENDING AN ENTIRE DAY WITH A MAN WATCHING MOVIES AND EATING AND READING AND HAVING CONVERSATIONS?!?!?!?!? I’m bowled over by this sequence. I know there’s something underlying this that I can’t ignore—that Alicia’s time with Jason, at this point, is an escape from the world, not a lasting solution to her problems—but this is still remarkable. This doesn’t have to be black and white. Alicia can make progress in one area (feeling comfortable, letting people in, opening up) while setting herself up for inevitable problems. Time will tell if this ends with another, “I can’t. It’s too much,” or not.

“Well, my best friend screwed me over. Borrowed a bunch of money, never paid me back,” Jason confides. Is this best friend the judge he punched? “Oh. I thought you were going to say a lover,” Alicia replies. “Nope. Only money. Never been screwed over in love,” Jason reflects. Alicia gives him a kiss on the cheek at that. Cute.

… cut to Jason, in Alicia’s pink bathrobe, opening the door for a pizza delivery guy. Hey, Alicia, I know you are super smart and all, but you might not want to have your lover opening the door to your apartment in his underwear (let alone in your robe!). You’re still married, Alicia, and there are lots of people that would jump at the chance to share a story about the first lady’s lover opening the door to get pizza. (Ditto for Jason, but Alicia’s the one more at risk so she should be the most cautious one.)

… cut to Jason and Alicia, at the table, half dressed (Alicia’s wearing a t-shirt but no pants; Jason’s still in the robe), the pizza half finished. (Neither Jason nor Alicia seem to like crusts.) (Why is pizza the go-to meal on this show?) Now it’s Alicia’s turn to disclose information. “So what’s up with your husband?” Jason asks. “My husband? What do you mean?” Alicia says with her mouth full, as though it’s a ridiculous question. “He wouldn’t look askance at me being here with you eating pizza in our underwear?” Jason follows up.

“Well, he might. But we have an arrangement,” Alicia smiles. Jason wants more information, which Alicia provides: “He needs me for his career; I need him for mine.” So we’re still going with that. Is that even true? (This episode makes a fairly good case for why it’s still true with the precariousness of Alicia’s position at the firm and Peter’s grand jury thing, so I won’t bother dissecting this too much.)

Jason doesn’t seem to think this is a good arrangement. (It’s not.) “What, that doesn’t meet with your approval?” Alicia asks. Jason makes a face. “I can read the non-verbal Jason signs now,” Alicia jokes in response. She moves over to sit on his lap, and then begins to explain the non-verbal Jason signs: “One eyebrow up, ‘Do you really mean that?’ One eyebrow up with a smile, ‘That sounds a little ridiculous, doesn’t it?’” (Sorry, Alicia. You don’t have The Spark the way Jason does. But your imitations of him are funny!) I like this a lot, because it’s specific to Jason. Alicia understands who the person she’s seeing is; she’s in tune with the non-verbal cues he gives off. This doesn’t have to mean much, but it’s the kind of thing that the writers chose to include that suggests that Alicia’s feelings for Jason are specific to Jason and that she hasn’t lost sight of reality. That’s something I’m always wary of in relationships—that one person or the other will stop seeing the person in front of them and start seeing an idealized version of them—so it’s nice to get a tiny piece of evidence suggesting Alicia’s awareness of the other person involved in this relationship.

“Use your words, big man,” she teases, and, unsurprisingly, cut to…

… movement happening under the sheets. (I want to go back to that conversation about Peter. Need more exploration of this, stat.)

The doorbell rings. Alicia wants to hide so whoever it is will go away. But it’s Veronica, so Alicia’s out of luck. She instructs Jason to stay, and tunnels under the sheets. I guess Alicia likes sheet tunnels (see: 5x17). I don’t understand this, but to each their own. (Here, I think it’s because it would be hard to film Alicia getting out of bed without pulling the sheets off of Jason or without being fully nude on camera.)

“I’m crying here,” Veronica screams in the hallway as Alicia puts on her bathrobe. I really feel sorry for Alicia’s neighbors. Alicia moves a chair in front of her bedroom door before letting Veronica in, because a chair blocking the door to her bedroom isn’t conspicuous at all in any way.

Alicia’s hair looks terrible, and not just because she was rolling around in the sheets a few seconds ago. FIX THE WIG, DAMMIT. SIX EPISODES TO GO AND YOU’RE GONNA LET HER HAIR LOOK LIKE THIS?

It’s 3 pm, Veronica points out. Why is Alicia not dressed? Alicia explains that she’s tired; Sunday is the day she catches up on sleep. Veronica won’t go away. And she’s invited Owen over, too! Don’t Veronica and Owen have homes? Veronica is her usual overly dramatic self; Alicia rolls her eyes.

“I was Madoff’d,” Veronica cries as she pushes her way in the door. The second she gets inside? “What is that chair doing there?!” “I’m painting,” Alicia lies. “Really? Doesn’t smell like it,” Veronica babbles. Alicia explains she’s sleeping in Grace’s room while Grace is away touring colleges with Peter. I would pay so much money to see a webisode of Grace and Peter touring colleges. Missed opportunity, CBS! (Though maybe it’s for the best. I toured 12 colleges when I went through the college admissions process and would nitpick like CRAZY, especially if they happened to choose to have Grace visit a school I toured.)

Veronica barges into Alicia’s room with no warning and finds Jason. Veronica now has a distraction from her money troubles, and gleefully introduces herself to Jason. Alicia tries to shut down the conversation, but Jason answers Veronica’s questions. (Did you know he’s English but his mom’s Italian?)

Owen arrives with bagels. He’s more respectful of Alicia’s day off, but he can’t say no to Veronica. “Stay,” Alicia commands him. She removes Veronica from her bedroom. “Alicia has taken a lover,” Veronica immediately tells Owen. Has taken a lover? It sounds so comical when you say it that way!

Of Jason’s looks, Vero remarks, “Finally she has someone she deserves.” Wait, really, Vero? You don’t think Peter’s attractive? I know you think he’s scum but you don’t think he’s attractive?

“I wanna see! Let me see!” Owen says enthusiastically, like Jason is a puppy and not a grown man. I love Veronica and Owen. I would also hate to be related to them. (Well, they have their moments.)

“Seriously, both of you, stop. This is my life; it is not a reality show,” Alicia demands. Veronica doesn’t pay any attention, and neither does Owen, who is too focused on Veronica’s use of the phrase “coming out” to describe the fact that Jason will emerge from Alicia’s bedroom.

Owen likes the idea of Alicia with an investigator. Kalicia shippers, you can take this line out of context;)

“So what happened with your scam?” Alicia asks Veronica. “Oh, I don’t want to talk about it,” Veronica dismisses, and Alicia looks almost directly into the camera and rolls her eyes: “That’s the only reason we’re here…”

Veronica went and lost A HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS.

Jason comes out (sorry, Owen) of Alicia’s room and Owen basically starts drooling at the hotness of Mr. Sparky. Owen comments that Veronica was right about Jason’s hotness, and Alicia’s all, “You know he can hear you?”

Jason tries to excuse himself, but Owen and Veronica won’t have it. He has to have a bagel!

The doorbell rings again. “It is Sunday, right?” Alicia wonders.

Who’s at the door now? Eli and Mike Tascioni (plus Tom the Dog). “We tried calling,” Eli says, knowing that Alicia’s about to shut the door in his face if he doesn’t get that out upfront.

“It’s not Peter, is it? That would be awkward!” Veronica cackles from the other room. Veronica!

Eli and Mike need Alicia to go to court to play Good Wife for the jurors. Mike asks Alicia who did her interior design (it is lovely, isn’t it?) and that’s when she makes the connection between Mike Tascioni and Elsbeth Tascioni. Fitting—the first thing Elsbeth ever says to her is, “These are beautiful bookcases,” (1x20).

Veronica is talking about orgasms again (by “again” I mean, do you remember 4x09 when she started discussing vaginas and orgasms with Will?)

As if things weren’t awkward enough with Eli, Veronica, Owen, Alicia, and Jason all in the same room, Mike chimes in to ask why no one’s at church. Uh, maybe because it’s 3 pm?

A good question to ask, apparently: Jason goes to church at night, and he’s Greek Orthodox. “I imagine that would come as a surprise to my daughter,” Veronica says, correctly. Hey! Sometimes she does understand Alicia!

The doorbell rings again. “My money’s on Peter!” Veronica calls. “Not funny!” Eli protests. It’s not Peter. (Remember in Nine Hours the face Alicia makes when she opens the door and it actually is Jackie? I could watch that episode a million times and not get tired of it.)

It’s actually the guy that serves subpoenas who’s been in so many episodes he’s become his own character. Veronica invites him in for bagels. Welcome to the TGW fam!

And… title credits.

That’s gotta be one of my favorite opening acts this show has ever done. Generally speaking, staying in Alicia’s apartment for act one is a good strategy. Comedy and distance from the COTW is also good for me (and something I’ve missed a lot in season seven—this is one of few episodes in season seven that actually felt like it had ambition). Even better? Comedy/distance from the COTW used to demonstrate a break from the norm. This first act doesn’t feel like TGW, exactly: where’s the lawyer speak? Where are the other characters? What’s up with all this flirty, happy, light stuff? Alicia’s smiling? Since when does that happen regularly? Alicia’s being playful? Alicia’s capable of being playful?

Of course she is. This sequence makes that clear. Alicia doesn’t have to be miserable, lonely, or laser-focused on work. She can eat ice cream out of a can and lounge around in her underwear eating pizza and watching movies with a guy she likes. As I said above, it’s jarring to see this other side of Alicia. It almost feels wrong, like this other side of her can’t really exist because we haven’t ever seen it before, not for such a long stretch, not extending to activities other than sex. But it’s not wrong.  It’s just a side of herself that Alicia’s learning to embrace again.  Sure, it’s different—but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t fit with the bigger picture (of Alicia’s life, of the show).

150. That’s the opening of act two, and it recalls the opening of 5x10, only no one’s going 100+ miles per hour on a residential street, there’s no Damian in sight, and this is the sign outside of a room in the courthouse. One hundred and fifty episodes. Damn. I’m proud of this show.

Mr. Schue is here! Admit it. Y’all watched Glee, too. At least the first thirteen episodes. He’s the prosecutor on the grand jury. Case talk, blah blah.

Mike Tascioni’s strategies make me feel the same way Elsbeth’s strategies in 3x14 (Another Ham Sandwich) did, so I’m now convinced that Mike Tascioni exists because they couldn’t get Carrie Preston for a long arc but wanted that kind of a vibe anyway. (Carrie has her own show on NBC now—I don’t know much about it, but I’ll check it out ‘cause Carrie’s great.)

I see a juror in a Robyn sweater! I miss Robyn!

I also thought for a second I saw the juror who was released from Cary’s jury? Probably not, but just in case that matters later, I’m noting it here.

Veronica’s working with David Lee now, and David Lee wants Jason on the case. Awkward, especially since Veronica (despite her promises to the contrary) is not very good at pretending she’s never met Jason. Owen’s there too because he’s supposedly good at math. (He’s a math professor so I hope he’s good at math…)

Cary shows up to pull Alicia and David Lee onto a call about “firm business.” Cary wants Diane to see him meeting with David. Alicia says Cary and David are just being paranoid. Alicia’s like, Cary, you’re the one that brought me back here, why would you believe this? And Cary reminds her that she’s a Florrick, so she matters. Ah. The Florrick name isn’t a liability today. Cool.

Excellent framing on the show where we can see Diane, in the space between Cary and David. Diane gets suspicious; Cary and David instruct Alicia to inform them if Diane approaches her.

Alicia excuses herself from the phone conversation because she has bigger problems. Namely, that Ruth Eastman just showed up to testify.

Jason investigates. Veronica doesn’t seem to have a case—she fell for a bad investment deal, but nothing illegal.

Alicia and Jason discuss Veronica. Jason tries to be tactful in asking if Veronica’s dumb enough to make such a stupid move, and Alicia’s just like, “Yes, she is.”

Alicia enters the accessible bathroom at the courthouse (the ladies’ room is under construction) and flirts with Jason about their lost weekend. “I needed to clear my head,” Alicia says. “And we didn’t even drink!” Jason adds. “We didn’t! Sex is a good replacement for tequila,” Alicia realizes. On the one hand: sex instead of alcohol is not going to make the problem go away. On the other: having someone there to support her and distract her and make sure she doesn’t turn to alcohol is a good thing. And it’s also good that Alicia’s self-aware about this. She knows she’s using sex to replace drinking. (Plus, it’s good that the relationship she has with Jason seems to include conversations and other activities, things that could, if they continue like this, form a good foundation for an actual relationship.)

“I wish you were here right now,” Alicia sexytalks. “Where’s here?” Jason asks. “Handicapped bathroom in the federal building,” Alicia says. (Is the federal building the courthouse or is the grand jury somewhere else and they’re just using the courthouse set?) (Why does Alicia love to have sex in bathrooms so much?)

Alicia’s about to leave the bathroom when she realizes she can hear something through the vents. It’s Ruth’s testimony! She can’t be hearing this! Yet she is!

Alicia runs to get Eli. She drags him by the arm through the crowd and into the bathroom (which probably looks as strange as a man opening her front door in a bathrobe) and makes him listen to the air vent. Season Seven: The Year of Eli and Air Vents.

The camera moves through the air vents, and we see what’s going on. There are two vents. One goes to a room that’s under construction; the other goes to the grand jury room. I care very little about this grand jury thing, but I like that they’re at least changing it up and being innovative.

Still don’t care about watching Eli’s bathroom hijinks.

Mike Tascioni gets more info out of Hlavin.

Owen’s birthday is in February, FYI.  

“Would you be offended if I said I want to take you right now?” Alicia asks Jason in her office. It’s shot through the glass, so we’re supposed to be very aware they’re no longer in private.

She has to ask Jason to do work for Peter. She hopes it’s not awkward for him, and he knows then that she means it’s something for Peter. He knew from the look on her face. Jason can read the non-verbal Alicia cues, too! (And yes, I think this is a big deal/intentional callback.)

Alicia checks out Jason’s ass as he walks away. LOVE IT! I also love that we stay with Alicia’s silly grin rather than getting an eyeline match (I mean, not that I’d mind that, but it’s much more important for the scene that we see that Alicia’s enjoying herself than that we see that Jason’s ass exists.)

You’re going to think I’m crazy, but this next scene had me in tears. It’s just the scene where the conversation from vent #1 overlaps with grand jury in vent #2, and I don’t care about the actual content of the scene, but I absolutely love the way they represent the overlapping conversations visually. It’s similar to the party scenes in 5x19, where Sweeney becomes Eli or whatever in Alicia’s mind, and it’s the first instance in season seven of innovative visual storytelling. I didn’t realize how much I missed the ambitious and experimental version of TGW I loved so much last year and in season five. Then I watched two construction workers pace around a grand jury room and it hit me: I really fucking missed this.

And that’s enough of that. Eli gets an important clue, and it’s commercial time.

Veronica was put on a list of suckers (i.e. people who will fall for scams) so she and Owen get to play a little trick on the scammer. Cute.

Alicia phones Jason, who was in on the trick—of course (he doesn’t seem to like it when people get screwed out of money. He went above and beyond for Maggie in 7x05, too, and I wonder if it ties back to this thing with his friend who screwed him over)—to talk about Peter’s thing. Veronica wants to talk about the con they just pulled.

Alicia gets off the phone and then Diane shows up to take her to lunch. Does Diane know about the grand jury? I hope Diane knows about the grand jury. Might affect what she’s willing to offer, no?

Diane and Alicia end up at a restaurant together. Alicia in glasses alert! Diane in glasses alert! Two kickass ladies both in glasses alert!

“It’s been a bit of a ride, hasn’t it? I know we’ve had some tense moments, but I’m very glad you’re back home,” Diane butters Alicia up. “I am, too,” Alicia agrees.

“Things are finally settling down,” Diane says. Alicia hesitates, then: “Cary thinks you want to take over the firm with female partners. Is that true?” Diane denies it.

“A year ago, you asked me, ‘Why not make it an all-female firm?’” Alicia calls Diane on her possible bullshit. (I believe they were in the same restaurant in that scene.) Diane says she’s become “more temperate” and asks Alicia what she wants.

“I want to be of use,” Alicia says. “No you don’t, Alicia. I’ve watched you over the years. You hide your ambition under a bushel, but it is a very bright lamp,” Diane tells her. Is that true? I’m not so sure. Alicia’s never experienced ambition the way Diane has. Alicia’s goals have shifted. She likes power, but she also likes stability and independence. Diane thinks Alicia dons a poker face to mask her goals. Alicia’s less calculated than that; less in tune with what she wants and more willing to adapt her goals. If you asked Diane as a college student what her dream job was, she’d probably say, “To be a well-known lawyer at a firm run by women.” And here we are. That’s what Diane’s spent every day of her life working towards. Does Diane understand that not everyone processes things the way that she does?

This is yet another instance of Diane befriending Alicia and lavishing her with praise because it benefits Diane. As I’ve said before, it’s not that Diane isn’t genuine with these compliments: it’s that she delivers them with a goal in mind. She believes Alicia is a great lawyer. She believes Alicia has the drive it takes to run a firm. She also knows that flattery might help her win Alicia over.

“I was very happy on my own. I’m very happy here. You may be suspicious of me, but all I want is to be of use,” Alicia says. Honest? Partially. The “I was very happy on my own” is genuine, the “I’m very happy here” is less genuine (but she needs to say that), and “all I want is to be of use” is the nicest possible spin to put on how she really feels about being stuck in the middle of this mess again.

“I’m not suspicious of you. I want to join forces with you,” Diane offers. That’ll work well, until the second Diane thinks Alicia’s screwing her over because she overhears the wrong word of a conversation……………………………. AGAIN. Also, you just said she tries to hide her ambition by covering it up. Alicia’s not wrong to assume that implies suspicion!

(Yeah, this is DEFINITELY the same restaurant from 6x01.)

“I’ve been working with Cary now as a fellow name partner for a year. He’s learned a lot. I respect him a great deal. But he is no Will Gardner,” Diane pitches. OUCH. (Unsaid: Cary screwed me over by starting his own firm. I was supposed to mentor him, he screwed me over, and now we’re equals? I don’t like this and won’t accept it.)

“He doesn’t pretend to be,” Alicia says, trying to figure out how to navigate this conversation.

“You don’t either, but you fill his shoes,” Diane manipulates. (That’s what she’s doing here, full stop. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but Diane only talks like this when she wants something. She was set against Alicia rejoining the firm up until a few weeks ago, and now Alicia fills Will’s shoes? Not only is that a huge comparison to make, but Diane knows EXACTLY what she’s doing when she tells Alicia she’s Will’s natural successor. She’s telling Alicia she can have that connection to Will’s legacy and reminding her of a lost love. It’s manipulative as hell.)

“You can slice an opponent to shreds, smiling the whole time, and they come back thanking you. I want someone I can work across from who… who I can respect, who I think can outrace me. Cary is not that person. And anyone who is not that person is holding us back,” Diane argues. Nice use of “us” in that last sentence, Diane!

Alicia registers this, then says, “So you’re a woman. I’m a woman. What are you proposing?” Basically: that they slowly turn the existing firm into an all-female firm. Congrats, Cary and David! You’ve created a self-fulfilling prophecy! (I don’t know if this will actually happen, but I know that Julianna is under the impression that Alicia and Diane should be BFFs and work partners.) 

“This is not about a takeover; this is a way to sharpen our advantage,” Diane says as I laugh hysterically. Yes, there are good business/PR reasons to have an all-female partnership. But also, yes, Diane is using those reasons to make her ambitions seem like logical choices. And the fact that there are logical reasons for Alicia to agree to this is the biggest problem facing Cary. Alicia understands the benefits of making a smart business choice, and she understands that if she and Diane work together, there are going to be substantially fewer conflicts than if you add Cary into the mix. Diane and Alicia may not ever be friends, but they work well together, can get things done, and don’t have much patience for drama. (Both are more likely to be the ones that get involved in drama by trying to clean it up or avoid more of it, so working together would have less friction.) Cary also has the problem of being aligned with David Lee on this—and we all know Alicia hates David Lee. Oh, plus the fact that Alicia always seemed to show signs of liking structure (Diane) more than the vibrant hip young culture that Cary advocates for.

Eli talks to Cary because Peter’s time as SA is important, and Cary was an ASA. Continuity! Eli figures out what’s going on: Peter was likely involved in doing a campaign donor (Garber)’s love child a favor and getting him cleared of murder charges, or something along those lines. (FFS, Entertainment Weekly, the problem is not that Peter has a love child.)

Is Illinois a two-party consent state or a one-party consent state because this show changes it up every damn time someone takes a recording on their phone? Anyway, Jason gets Veronica her money back, so if Veronica and Owen weren’t already shipping Alicia with Jason (and they were!), they are now!

HEY!!!! IT’S LUCCA!!!!! I MISSED YOU, LUCCA!!!!! (This isn’t a great supporting character episode, but it is an episode where the supporting characters get only as much screentime as they need, which helps the episode as a whole. Still would’ve liked another scene with Lucca, but at least there’s this one!)

“Is it always like this here?” Lucca asks, talking to Alicia about the latest drama. “Pretty much,” Alicia laughs, then explains: “Diane thinks the firm needs to be defined, it needs an identity. She’s not wrong. All-service firms tend to do too much. No one knows what they’re about.” They’re only realizing this now? Also, this branding campaign sounds much better than “LG” of season five. We shall not speak of that “sleek” logo.

Why would an all-female firm work? According to Alicia: “Some people think they know what they’re buying into with a female lawyer. Softer. More hand holding.” Alicia and Lucca acknowledge that this is stereotypical bullshit.

“Do we get paid more money?” Lucca wants to know. “I would!” Alicia smiles. “Oh, great!” Lucca returns. Hehe. “You probably would, too,” Alicia says seriously.

“I like Cary,” Lucca reminds Alicia. Yeah, I’m surprised Alicia isn’t talking about Cary more.

“I like Cary too!” Alicia defends herself. “But?” Lucca follows up. “But what?!” Alicia wonders. “No, it just seemed like you were going to add a ‘but’,” Lucca says. And it did.

“No, it’s just, before I left here, Jason wanted me to be name partner,” Alicia explains. “Jason?” Lucca asks. “I mean Will. That was weird,” Alicia frets. “Will.” That was weird. I don’t know how to read it, exactly: does it mean that Alicia’s overwhelmed? Does it mean that Alicia’s moving on from Will? Does it mean that Alicia’s trying to mold Jason into being Will 2.0? Does it mean that Jason’s playing a similar role in her life to the one Will once played so she accidentally conflated them in her mind? I’m inclined to say it’s all of these things, especially the last one. Distracted and happy and sexual is something she felt with Will, and it’s something she’s feeling again with Jason. Of course there’s a link there. There’s lots of evidence to indicate that Jason (I just wrote Will instead of Jason, smh) isn’t just someone Alicia sees as a piece of meat (even if she does love checking out his ass), which suggests he’s not just a surrogate Will. So I really don’t know. They’re two different men playing similar roles in her life, and Alicia’s transitioning from associating Will with feeling happy and relaxed to associating those feelings with Jason.

And now for something I’ve wanted to say for a few weeks, that I hinted at before. Will and Alicia never were shown just sitting around chatting. If they were, it was about work, or it became about work. Tricky conversations were shut down or avoided once they got together. Everything we saw was sex. Most of it was at hotels. We never saw them in Alicia’s apartment together—the closest we get is the implication in 3x01 that he might be coming over, and then nothing. Right off the bat with Jason, we get a weekend in. We get them in various stages of undress, but doing things like watching movies, reading, talking, and eating pizza. Even if it is an outlet for Alicia, and one that’s reminiscent of what she had with Will, it’s something else, too. In 6x14, Alicia tries to remember Will as someone encouraging and comforting. She can’t. She fact checks herself, says “You’ve never talked like this before,” and lets go of the fantasy. But Jason “talks like that” ALL THE TIME. He asks questions, provides support, reads the warning signs she’s giving off, and suggests activities to help her avoid destructive behaviors.

This isn’t to say JASON IS BETTER THAN WILL because, really, what do I get out of making that comparison? All I’m saying is that Jason is not Will, and Alicia’s relationship with Jason is not her relationship with Will. There are unique challenges to Alicia’s relationship with Jason—like that she’s still dealing with her grief over Will’s death, like that her marriage is still a threat, like that she feels like reaching for the tequila whenever she’s alone—just as there were unique challenges to Alicia’s relationship with Will. That said, both men provided Alicia with an escape, and for both men, it’ll likely come down to whether or not that escape can become something more sustainable than an outlet.

“So Jason, huh?” Lucca smiles. Cute. Lucca knows what’s up.

Lucca advises Alicia to tell Cary, which doesn’t seem to be what Alicia wanted, or at least expected, to hear. Alicia closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Okay. I’m turning my brain off,” she says. “I’m going home.” Good.

“You wanna get a drink?” Lucca offers. “No, I’m too tired. Next time,” Alicia responds.

She’s not that tired, because she ends up half-naked with Jason again, finishing up the movie from earlier. She kisses him, and thanks him for helping out.

Then the doorbell rings… again. It’s Veronica… again. But this time, she’s there for Jason—she wants to thank him.

“Yep. That’s my mom,” Alicia says, kissing Jason and ignoring Veronica. On the TV, a lion breaks down a door. We hear roaring, and then Veronica says, “Alicia?” and the episode ends. Veronica is a lion. I laughed!

What a thoroughly enjoyable, risk-taking episode of this show. No real COTW, heavy Alicia focus, a nice change of pace, some familiar faces, and the return of TGW’s flair and ambition. I’m happy.

[florrickandassociates]

TGW Thoughts: 7x15-- Targets

Thoughts on 7x15 under the cut...

As far as opening images for TGW go, a car pulling up to pick up Alicia is not one of the more engaging ones. Alicia looks lovely, though, and it is a bit disorienting to see a military officer picking her up. It’s clear she’s not in trouble (“Would you mind getting in the back seat, please?”), but it’s not clear what’s happening.

Alicia has to hold up her ID, which is, to me, the most interesting thing about this scene. It’d be even more interesting if she held it up close enough to the camera for me to read her middle name and her birthday. Actually, because I’m now comparing it to a real IL driver’s license, I can see that Alicia does NOT appear to have a middle name. Birthday is anyone’s guess.

Eli phones Alicia to inform her of the FBI investigation that she already knows about. And that he’s hiring a lawyer.

Specifically, he is hiring Elsbeth Tascioni. Hi, Elsbeth. I’m very sorry I’m not more excited to see you, but I simply don’t trust the writers with you after 6x05 and 6x06. I know you don’t have Josh Perotti in tow, thank God, but I’m not convinced the writers know how to write for you without harming the rest of the show anymore. Know that I still love you and your magical ways and your impressive Vera Bradley collection that goes above and beyond everything my 13-year-old self could’ve ever dreamed of.

Elsbeth is quirky, etc.

The partners at LAL are being photographed for a magazine for the ABA. Who knows who the hell these people are? They’re definitely not former Florrick/Agos partners. I give up trying to understand the firm history. It’s only fair that I give up now; the writers gave up a long time ago. Anyway, for those curious: 6 women (including Diane) (2 are women of color) and 6 men (including Cary and David Lee) (1 is a man of color). Diane gets to be in the center.

The photographer calls Cary “Cory” and we’re back to this no-one-knows-who-Cary-is game.

Then the photographer wants a picture of just the women. David Lee is not pleased! Shocking, right? Cary doesn’t care at first, but David Lee plants the seed. Are they about to be written about as a female-run firm? Which would push the poor, underappreciated, oft-discriminated against white men out of the spotlight? I feel such intense pity now. Really. I’m thinking of starting a fund.

Somehow, publicity for the firm that spotlights women is not good publicity. Apparently, noting that it’s impressive to have half of the partners be female is a threat to David Lee. When the photographer tells David and Cary they’re no longer needed for the photo, David quips, “we’ll just go back to the cleaning and cooking,” implying that the world has been turned upside-down and now men are oppressed or something idk it’d be more funny if it didn’t feel so much like something an entitled dude would say without really meaning it as a joke.

Cary then asks Diane if the article is about women at the firm. As we all know, women getting any power in a business setting means women are then going to take over the world and fire all the men.

The photographer is coming back the next day to get a photo that includes Alicia. Ah, so now Alicia is an asset again? I can’t keep track. The writers need to revive Snarkisthenewblack so I can monitor Alicia’s approval ratings. (Also, if there was any question as to whether or not Alicia’s status at the firm was going to be tricky to pin down… it’s going to be tricky to pin down.)

And now Cary, too, is paranoid. All season long, I’ve understood (from a character place) why Cary would do the things he does/believe the things he does (not quite understanding why reverse racism isn’t a thing, hiring based on people that he likes, thinking Monica and Lucca would like each other without really understanding why he thought so/how offensive it is to say, “You will like her, she’s also black.”). This I’m not so sure on. Paranoia takes hold quickly, but does Cary really think Diane is concocting a scheme to banish all the men? Is he really that threatened by the idea of an article that praises women in the workplace?

Cary goes to find Alicia, but she’s out, so he talks to Lucca instead. He winds up asking Lucca to lunch. She says yes, but she’s suspicious and immediately phones Alicia.

But Alicia can’t pick up—she and her head of super shiny and stiff fake hair have to go into a meeting.

Inside the secret meeting room, a table of men wait for Alicia to sit down. It’s like Blue Ribbon Panel, but with the military!

Among the men at the table: Captain Hicks!!!!! I don’t know when I developed such affection for Captain Hicks, but it seems that I did. (It’s possible that I just develop affection for characters that gain Alicia’s trust and respect, and the very by-the-book but open-minded, reliable, trustworthy Captain Hicks meets these criteria easily.)

They go around the table and introduce themselves. Well, the men introduce themselves—both the men introduced before Alicia and the men introduced after her—while another man introduces Alicia. But by all means, it must be a nefarious scheme to want to spotlight women in the workplace over at LAL. Sexism is gone! (I know this has nothing to do with LAL, but I feel like this illustrates well why even though it’s easy to think sexism isn’t a problem, it is.)

A nice thing about this introduction is that it lets us know that Judge Kuhn (miss you, love you, sad you’re not in this episode) recommended Alicia for the panel. Awwww.

All the members of the panel are instructed to break the seals on the confidential evidence. The men do it easily, and Alicia struggles. She’s immediately offered help. (The writing feels very reminiscent, again, of Blue Ribbon Panel, where Alicia takes her time reviewing evidence—as she should—and the men (Kresteva, in particular) ask if she’s alright. She insists on ripping the seal herself.

The case is about a terrorist… born in 1997. So, a terrorist that’s approximately Zach’s age. (Something I wish the show/Alicia would’ve commented on.) It’s a pretty interesting case: can you hold someone who neither directly encourages in nor engages in violence accountable (read: can you kill this person), under the law, for violence committed by people with direct ties to him? Actually, it’s not a question of can you, it’s more a question of finding a legal justification for a killing that is already set to take place.

David Lee calls Jason in for a meeting and OH MY GOD I HAVE THAT SKIRT I HAVE THAT SKIRT THAT THAT EXTRA IN THE BACKGROUND IS WEARING I GOT IT YEARS AGO AT AN ANN TAYLOR LOFT OUTLET WHY IS IT ON TGW

Sorry about that. David Lee tasks Jason with finding out if the All-Female Firm conspiracy has any truth to it. Must be nice to have enough money to pay out of pocket to have such a silly thing investigated. (I’m not just saying it’s silly because it involves entitled men thinking women are trying to take their power. I’m also saying it’s silly because the evidence is incredibly flimsy.)

Diane watches Jason leave David Lee’s office, and now she’s paranoid.

Also paranoid: Peter and Eli, trying to figure out why Peter’s being investigated. (Should be paranoid: Alicia, whose every move is being listened to by the NSA.)

I love that each person Elsbeth mentions gets their own motion, like it’s charades. Schakowsky is a gavel, Ruth is someone walking (possibly a larger woman, but I’m not sure that’s quite what Carrie was going for), and Marissa gets a gesture like a little kid being patted on the head.

Eli knows why Peter’s being investigated! Or, at least, he thinks he does, so he asks Elsbeth to leave to confront Peter about the Bad Thing. The Bad Thing is the nonsensical retcon that Peter rigged the election for Alicia. It makes no sense on a character level (Peter was furious with Alicia for most of season 6; even if he wanted her in office or not to be embarrassed by her loss, why would he take such a big risk like rigging an election, especially after the close call in season 4/5?) and no sense on a plot level (we already know that the rigging was done to get the Democratic supermajority). At least it’s not as convoluted as the “Peter rigged the vote for Alicia so he could then publicly humiliate her” theory from last year, but it still makes much more sense that either a) Peter didn’t rig any elections or b) Peter wanted the supermajority and Alicia happened to be in the same race, so people presume it was for Alicia/just for Alicia.

The FBI wants to talk to Nora now, so shit’s getting serious.

Case stuff happens. Sleuthway gets a mention, but not ChumHum. I find this case really fascinating, but I have nothing to say about it, except that I’m glad I don’t have to be the one making the call.

Alicia votes in favor of killing the terrorist; Hicks votes against it. Alicia apologizes to him for not agreeing; Hicks says it’s okay that she has differing opinions. Have I mentioned yet that I love Captain Hicks?

Case closed. But wait! The terrorist is an American citizen! Does the decision still stand?! Title credits.

Now Alicia needs more information, and the case continues.

Diane is eating a salad when she calls Jason in. She wants to know if he’s on David Lee’s current case, and he says he’s not, so Diane concludes that something shady must be going on. Jason doesn’t lie to Diane. He just sparks at her mysteriously, and says he wouldn’t be able to tell her if he was doing freelance work for David Lee.

“David Lee loves to create paranoia and dissention. Don’t help him,” Diane warns. Yes. This is true.

In the next office over, Cary and Lucca are eating. This is not a date—it’s more of an interrogation. Cary makes “pleasant” conversation about whether or not Alicia and Diane are working together against him. He does have some reason to worry, since he apparently found out about the attempt to make F/A a “female run firm” last year. Much as I’d like to say “WTF are you talking about?”, Diane did expressly state this goal on at least two occasions in early season six (6x01 with Alicia; 6x02 with Dean—though it’s “women and people of color” there). Lucca has no information on this subject (almost certainly because no information on this subject exists) and says she’ll check with Alicia.

Lucca and Jason run into each other at the elevators. Jason’s headed out for some air, and Lucca is just headed out. “This place is insane,” Jason comments. I bet Jason and Lucca both understand Alicia a lot better now. Also, yes, LAL is insane, to the point where I wouldn’t even think twice before accepting “this place is insane” as a reason for the total lack of non-Cary/Alicia F/A people.

Alicia gets a chance to check her messages. She finds one from Cary saying he needs her to phone, one from Lucca that says, “Hey. So this is a weird firm. I need some advice,” a “We need to talk” from Diane, a message from Peter, and a message from Jason. She chooses to listen to Jason’s first. It just says, “Yeah… so… I’ll talk to you,” and Alicia smiles. She’s interrupted before she can listen to the message from Peter.

Case stuff happens. Alicia in glasses alert!

This decision can wait, apparently, so the panel will take the night before voting again. That’s a little suspicious.

Oh dear God, Elsbeth is now in Eli’s closet office, and we must be subjected to more tiny desk jokes. Why. Why. WHY.

Elsbeth and Eli are just totally confused as to why Marissa might be involved in this potential voter fraud investigation about Alicia’s run for SA. SHE WAS ALICIA’S BODY WOMAN. WHY IS THIS CONFUSING OR SURPRISING!?

Alicia heads to the office at night and tries to open a bottle of tequila. The cork breaks. “Oh, come on,” Alicia says to the bottle. It’s amazing I don’t say, “Oh, come on,” more, considering how often it’s said on this show. Maybe I should start.

Alicia struggles with the cork for a while, stopping only to acknowledge Jason’s presence when he walks up to her door. Alicia’s just seeing what piled up on her desk while she was out. It’s hard for me to imagine Alicia doing this voluntarily in any of the earlier seasons, where working late happened only when it absolutely had to. In an early season of this show, Alicia might’ve gone to the office late at night because someone wanted her there, or because she felt pressure to keep pace so that she wouldn’t lose her job, but she wouldn’t voluntarily head to the office when she could head home. I’m toying with the idea here that Alicia’s circumstances have changed.  Two tween-age children need supervision. One eighteen year old with her own busy life doesn’t demand nearly as much attention. There’s no family unit at immediate risk of falling apart, no Jackie-monster damaging (Grace’s words!) her children on a daily basis, and no pressing needs for Alicia at home.

Somewhere around season four or five, Alicia’s kids grew up. Zach gets his driver’s license in season three. Grace (presumably) gets hers in season five. Suddenly, Alicia’s home life is very different than it used to be. The things that used to weigh on her no longer weigh on her; many of the responsibilities she had no longer exist. She and Peter understand where they stand in relation to each other; her job is secure as it can be at a firm like LAL. She’s also grown as a person, become more in touch with her own desires (especially her sexual desires), let emotions fester for years, and been upset by scandals and tragedies and deleted voicemails.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Alicia offers Jason a drink; he turns her down. So then she has to ask if he’ll remove the cork for her. He sits down on the couch next to Alicia, and starts to make conversation. “So, people really don’t trust each other around here, do they?” Alicia laughs. “Not much.” Jason asks Alicia about the all-female firm thing; Alicia has no idea.

And Jason removes the cork!

Alicia recalls that “maybe a year or so ago” Diane mentioned something about an all-female firm, but “a lot’s happened.” (Cary being arrested; Diane actually joining the firm; Alicia’s SA campaign, win, and loss; David Lee returning to the firm; Alicia being kicked out; Alicia returning…)

Done with this subject, Alicia asks, “Do you think I drink too much?” “I don’t know. Do you?” “I was gonna break this bottle if I couldn’t get the cork out. That might be a problem,” Alicia replies. Yeah. I would say that is a clear sign you might like alcohol a bit too much.

Jason takes her up on that and moves the bottle away from her. Already comfortable with Jason, Alicia reaches over him playfully (and a bit desperately) to get to the booze. “Let’s just talk,” he insists. But she really wants that tequila. “You don’t need it, seriously,” he tells her.

“Okay, yes, but I want it,” Alicia says. Ouch. That has me reevaluating the 2x15 scene where Grace asks Alicia why she needs wine. This scene seems more desperate, though both times, it weighs on her (“My daughter thinks I drink too much.” “You know what your problem is?” “I don’t drink enough?” “You didn’t get your tubes tied.”) Is there much of a difference between these two scenes, or is the want/need distinction just a strategy to make Alicia feel in control? I’m starting to think it’s the latter.

I don’t think Alicia is an alcoholic, at least not in the television sense (think: season 2 Bree Van de Kamp on Desperate Housewives passing out in department store dressing rooms) (and alcoholism in the television sense is a very real problem, but it’s also often the most dramatic representation of alcohol abuse possible), but she’s gone from a routine where alcohol helps her relax and is always consumed in moderation (a glass of wine at 3, a glass of wine after work) to hard liquor, daily, whenever she feels like it, and probably too much of it. (One thing I wish the show would depict is a consequence of Alicia’s drinking. If Alicia can hold the tequila in her nightly margaritas, why are they any more harmful than a nightly glass of wine? If Alicia constantly wants another drink, like she says in 7x13 (but we’ve never seen Alicia binge drink), that suggests that she’s no longer controlling herself around alcohol/that she’s craving a way to numb the pain. I think I get what the writers want us to see, which is an Alicia who is increasingly relying on increasingly stronger alcohol to get through the day. And that would be a warning sign of some deeper psychological problem and the beginning of a more serious problem with alcohol. But I still wish they’d shown a bit more how/when/why Alicia is becoming on alcohol and constantly craving more. (7x06 is an interesting starting point—whichever episode it is where Eli tells Alicia that Peter actually wants to be president is the one where the margaritas start—for this, because in 7x13 Alicia makes it sound like it’s about the voicemail, but it goes back further, and I don’t yet know why. Is it the marriage that kicks this off?)

Jason, to his credit, reads this situation (in which Alicia’s behavior is very worrisome) very well.  He asks her to try a breathing exercise. “If this doesn’t work, do I get the glass?” she asks. She seems quite fixated on that glass for someone who doesn’t need alcohol! (It’s very safe to say that Alicia is not over the breakdown from a few weeks ago. She’s made some progress and gotten out of the worst of it, at least for now, but this is a clear indicator that she’s still not in a good place.)

Alicia finds the breathing exercise ridiculous: “I don’t meditate, Jason.” (I’ve tried breathing exercises like this, and for me, personally, if I don’t believe that what I’m doing will work, that’s the quickest way to ensure that it won’t.) He gets her to calm down and relax, and then he leans in for a kiss (first touching her face so she knows what’s about to happen) and they start making out until…

The lights go off! Alicia explains that the lights go off automatically after 11, not thrown by the darkness, and the making out continues. And then it escalates. Right there on the couch where clients sit and Eli sleeps.

Elsbeth asks Marissa why she knew about the vote rigging. This is an excellent question. Why did Marissa know about something Alicia and Eli knew nothing of? She knew because she was Alicia’s body woman, she says, which makes her keeper of confidences. BUT WHO WOULD’VE TOLD HER? PETER????? It certainly wasn’t Alicia, who didn’t know, or Eli, who didn’t know. Who would’ve told her?!?! Why are we here?!?!?! THIS MAKES NO SENSE!!!!!

Fun fact: Marissa makes purses. They’re quirky and Elsbeth wants one. But then she realizes something and excuses herself. She can’t be Peter’s lawyer, and she can’t say why. But she still wants a purse from Marissa.

“So, you don’t want to hire me for anything, but THAT’S your lawyer?” Marissa remarks after Elsbeth leaves. Oh, Marissa. If only you knew.

Day two of the secret panel, and Alicia knows how things work. Until…

… she notices Captain Hicks isn’t there. Odd, right? He’s the one that’s resisting the most, and then they suddenly take a break and the next day, he’s been removed? (This case was more interesting to me when it was about the case, and not the politics behind the decision-making process. The NSA boys will get involved in a few minutes and… can we go back to debating interesting ethical/legal issues? And not deal with them?)

Hicks is being questioned about leaking confidential information, the head of the panel (is this a panel? Idk what else to call it) explains after Alicia presses the issue.

Alicia’s now voting against the strike, along with some others, but the head of the panel decides against her.

Why can’t Elsbeth be Peter’s lawyer? We still don’t know, but now she’s given Eli a business card for her ex-husband, Michael.

Mike Tascioni carries around a small dog with him wherever he goes. The quirk on this show can be insufferable at times. I don’t mind Mike—he’s preferable to Josh Perotti!!!!—but Elsbeth-adjacent quirk has a tendency to devour TGW whole (or to feel wholly separate from the rest of the show to the point where it feels like a time suck), and with 8 episodes of the series left (including 715), that’s something I have little patience for.

Sorry, Tom the Dog. You’re adorable.

Mike is confident this isn’t about vote rigging. Please tell me Mike is right!!!!! If Mike is right, then I don’t have to wonder about all the retconning in a serious way!!!!!!!!!!

I feel like someone talked about their emotional support service animal on a recent episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine too. Trendpiece?

The scene where Mike and Elsbeth have whatever sort of tension this is supposed to be makes me cringe. Poor Eli, caught in the middle. I feel your horror.

Task: Make Elsbeth paranoid.

David Lee and Cary are already paranoid. Jason tells them there’s nothing to be suspicious of with Diane, so… they continue to be suspicious. David Lee can’t imagine why, if she had a deal with Alicia a year ago to make an all-female firm, she isn’t still plotting. MAYBE BECAUSE A LOT HAS CHANGED IN THAT TIME, AND ALSO MAYBE BECAUSE SHE NEVER HAD AN ACTUAL DEAL WITH ALICIA.

Jason repeats that there is no evidence, which is all he can provide. Cary and David Lee become suspicious that Diane has now buried the evidence—how does Jason know Diane didn’t bury evidence?! “I can’t answer that,” Jason says, reasonably. “Why not?” Cary and David demand. “Because I deal in evidence. I don’t deal in states of mind,” Jason answers. Thank you, Jason! “You think we’re being paranoid?” Cary asks. (YES!!!!!) “I haven’t been here long enough to answer that conclusively,” Jason responds.

Alicia tries to phone Jason; he hits ignore. This will matter later.  

Alicia tries to defend Captain Hicks. Awwww. Yay! But now they think Alicia’s the leak, so maybe there really is a leak, so maybe there was no conspiracy to get Hicks off the panel and I’m being paranoid.

Speaking of paranoia and surveillance (do you sense a theme yet? Do you? Do you?), the NSA is listening to Alicia’s conversations—all of them, regardless of whether she’s on the phone or not. Uh oh!

Good to know these boys are listening in on Alicia having sex with Jason. I’m really glad they kept them part of the show. I really wouldn’t know that Alicia and Jason were having sex if I didn’t get to hear sex noises playing through computer speakers at the NSA. Whatever point about privacy (and lack of privacy) the writers wanted to make here I’m 99% sure they already made in season five.

Now the NSA has to hold off on listening to Alicia. Well, boys, if you tune in to CBS on Sundays at nine, you’ll be pleasantly surprised with what you find…

Stuff happens with Elsbeth and the FBI investigation. Jason is now on the case. And now Ei (and Marissa!) know exactly who the potential problem for Peter is.

Remember that interesting case from earlier in the episode? It’s resolved with a news report confirming the panel decided to strike the terrorist. Why this case couldn’t have been explored more is beyond me. It’s not that I needed more from the case, exactly, but I definitely didn’t need the case to suddenly become this thing about the NSA tapping Alicia’s phone.

Alicia isn’t happy, is morally conflicted, etc., so she closes her laptop and then gazes at her bottle of tequila. But before her desires can be fulfilled, Lucca interrupts: “You’re back from your secret mission!”

“Yup,” Alicia replies. “I heard things here are getting a little bit crazy.” “I thought bond court was a jungle, but wow,” Lucca comments.

“Best thing to do, stay on the sidelines,” Alicia advises. Excellent advice.

“We could just leave,” Lucca proposes. “We could. But money,” Alicia responds. “Money,” Lucca repeats. Then Alicia asks where Jason is. Lucca wants to know why (she has to suspect they’re hooking up, right?), and Alicia says something about “the three of us against the world.”

“So, it’s been fun here, huh?” Alicia says when Jason arrives at her office. I like the idea of the Alicia/Lucca/Jason unit within LAL. If Alicia has to be back at LAL (my personal conspiracy theory, because I too am susceptible to paranoia: Alicia et al had to be moved back to LAL by the end of the season in case CBS wanted a season 8), at least there’s this. She’s back at LAL, but still removed from it. Alicia’s already familiar with the world of LAL and knows how to navigate it; Lucca’s learning quickly and shares Alicia’s hesitations; Jason knows LAL’s culture doesn’t mesh with his attitude (but hey, the money’s good, and Alicia and Lucca are there). I think it’s a nice compromise, sort of, to look at Alicia’s new #squad in her old environment. The Alicia that Jason and Lucca know is not the Alicia that Diane and Cary watched develop, and that’s kinda awesome. Diane and Cary’s first impression of her was “disgraced spouse.” Lucca’s first impression was, “candidate I’m voting for.”

Lucca leaves Jason and Alicia alone, and Jason closes the doors. (“Glass walls. You have to get used to them,” Alicia remarks.) (Oh, who am I kidding? The writers probably moved Alicia and company back to LAL so they could use glass walls to create more tension. These writers have never met a device they didn’t like to exhaust.)

“So. Things are complicated between us now?” Alicia starts. “What do you mean?” “I remember high school. I remember my phone calls being ignored,” Alicia explains. (It was one phone call that we saw! How can she possibly figure out he was avoiding her?) “I am not ignoring anything. I just… I don’t like not knowing what the situation is,” Jason insists.

“What situation?” Alicia asks. ALICIA. I know that ring’s been on your finger so long it feels like a part of you but, really? What situation? You’re married to the governor.

“Look, it’s not like you’re married to the corner grocer, alright? It’s the governor,” Jason explains.

“And that’s my problem,” Alicia says, because after all this time she still somehow has not learned that the different areas of her life intersect. (Isn’t this supposed to be the education of Alicia Florrick? This seems like a rookie mistake.) (I don’t mean that as a joke—I honestly wonder if it’s in character for Alicia to continue to insist she can section off parts of her life. Of course it’s Jason’s problem—Alicia didn’t like it much when Peter was sleeping with Ramona (and she found out about it, because these things have a way of being unmasked when you’re in the spotlight) and they had an agreement that it was okay; why would Peter just accept this? And what if the media found out? Then Jason has cameras in his face and his name attached to scandal. What in Alicia’s experience/past with things blowing up in her face—leaked emails about an affair, near-misses, scandals, being caught up in the scandals of others—would possibly lead her to believe, still, that it’s easy to separate? Years of being promoted based on who she knows politically. Years of being given special treatment because of who she knows personally. Years of Peter and Will comparing dick size and affecting her work life. Years of the kids being dragged into things they shouldn’t be dragged into. Years of Eli showing up at her office. Years of her clients posing political problems for Peter. Years of all of this, and more, and Alicia still believes her problems only affect her, and the different areas of her life are totally distinct? This better be Alicia rationalizing because she wants Jason in her bed and will stop at nothing to achieve that goal, because otherwise, she’s failing her final exam.)

Let me just riff on that for a moment while I’m here. Season seven should be, but does not seem to be, the synthesis of all the lessons Alicia’s learned. If this is the final chapter in the story of her education, then this season should be comparable to a final exam. Maybe it’s different for the Kings, but when I sit for my final exams, they’re cumulative, and they ask me to draw connections between different units. Final exams aren’t about what I’ve learned in the past two weeks; they’re about how what I learned the very first week of class relates to what I learned in the very last week of class and everything in between. Why is season seven not the television equivalent of that? Why are there new plots upsetting everything? Why is Alicia being backed into a corner by an FBI arc poised to run until the end of the entire series? Why wasn’t it enough to watch Alicia put what she’s learned on its feet (these are her words from 514!) after, say, 6x18 or 6x20? Why did Peter have to run for President? That arc wasn’t consistently written, barely involved Peter as a character (he fires Eli! Then rehires Eli off screen as though nothing ever happened!), rushed through any thread created for Eli (it’s a revenge arc! No wait, it’s about love! No wait, it’s a revenge arc again! No wait, love story! Now it’s over!), didn’t explore the national spotlight on Alicia in any substantial way (she’s a liar and a cheater! Now she’s the Good Wife again! How did we get here? Who knows! Let’s all give Eli a round of applause for running a successful rehabilitation campaign for Alicia!), and didn’t explore Alicia and Peter’s marriage. Why was the voicemail revealed? Why was it followed up with plate-throwing instead of a look inside of Alicia’s mind? Why has the progress been so inconsistent? Why does it have to be one thing after another after another after another? I used to praise this show for its lack of “drama.” Conflicts used to come from interpersonal relationships and squabbles years in the making, with the occasional melodramatic explosion, then followed by a return to more everyday occurrences. I can no longer say that pattern characterizes the show, and that troubles me.

Just imagine if s6/s7 had gone this way: After 6x18/6x19/6x20, when Alicia and Peter finally become friendly and comfortable with each other’s presence, Alicia slowly starts to realize she wants to leave Peter (or she wants to be with him, but I think that’s pretty damn unlikely at this point). But now it’s difficult. They’re on good terms again. They make a damn good team. This friendship thing is kind of nice. She remembers how well he can complement her, how supportive he can be. The kids are leaving the nest (I’m really big on this “Alicia’s circumstances have changed in subtle ways as her kids have grown up and she’s acclimated to the professional world” idea right now, if you couldn’t tell). She realizes she has no pressing reason to stay with Peter now, other than how difficult it would be to rip off the band-aid and divorce. She finds herself attracted to Jason. But she still doesn’t want to divorce. She likes the power Peter brings her; it’s been twenty-plus years and she’s gotten used to this; she’s forgotten what it’s like not to be a Good Wife; she likes the idea of being married; she abhors the idea of having to say she’s divorced (it’s a failure in her eyes, maybe, even if she’d never say that). Yet she knows, or slowly comes to realize, that even though her marriage is in a better place than it’s been in ages, she wants a divorce. The same stuff we’re seeing in s7 happens: she puts that decision off to dedicate more time to her career. She tells herself that she’s happy because of her new firm, and because she’s on good terms with Peter, but this sadness just won’t stop creeping back in. Maybe she even learns about the voicemail, gets angry, gets pushed to the edge, has this breakdown. I don’t know. It doesn’t particularly matter; the writers could’ve spiced up the story however they wanted, because I know I’d happily watch Alicia Florrick Has Mundane Thoughts for twenty seasons but that’s not really something with broad appeal. What matters is that there should’ve been a consistent effort to show how Alicia feels about her marriage and her personal life, one focused more on Alicia seeing things through to their conclusions and making choices than on new obstacles being thrown at Alicia every time she’s in a position to make a step.

I don’t know how this show will end, and I’m getting less optimistic about its ending by the day. I’m still hopeful, however, that the remaining seven episodes will explore Alicia with the depth that I want from the show. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from following the education of Alicia Florrick, it’s that it’s never a good idea to form opinions about plots before they happen. I thought it would be a jump-the-shark moment if they ever killed off a character right up until the moment I saw Will’s shoeless foot. I thought it would be a terrible idea for Alicia to run for State’s Attorney, but wound up being one of the few ardent defenders of that arc. I detested the idea of suggesting that Peter was the father of Marilyn’s baby… until I laughed for five minutes straight at Eli’s spit-take at the end of 5x10. I hated the idea of bringing back the voicemail, and now my only problem with it is in the follow-up. So I’ll be patient.

Much as I wish I could end my recap on that semi-positive note, the Alicia/Jason scene I’m in the middle of writing about continues.

“No, my problem too,” Jason says. “He accepts it,” Alicia says as though that makes all potential complications disappear. “No, he doesn’t. He may say it, but no one accepts it,” Jason sees through the bullshit.

“Okay. I accept it,” Alicia replies, STILL NOT SOLVING ANYTHING. What do you accept? You can’t accept it on Peter’s behalf. And you didn’t accept it very well when Peter had a relationship.

I should stop being so hard on Alicia, because something’s seriously wrong here. She’s desperate. She’s trying to rationalize—she’s not being rational. She wants to drink (remember that longing look at the tequila a few seconds ago?) but sex is an acceptable, or even preferable substitute, so, her mission becomes to get Jason in bed with her. Did I already say that a very reasonable answer to one of the questions I posed above, about whether or not it’s in character for Alicia to continue to partition off parts of her life, is that she’s… not really trying to do that at all because she’s just trying to get what she wants in the moment? I think I did, but I want to underline that point, because I think I just linked a line that’s really not that troublesome to a larger anxiety I have about how this show will come to a close in seven episodes.)

As evidence, I present what Alicia says next: “And… you kept me from drinking. If you don’t come to me tonight, who knows? Maybe I’ll start drinking again.” Are alarm bells going off in anyone else’s mind!? At first, when I watched the sneak peek, I thought Alicia was making a bizarre joke at the expense of alcoholics. In context, it plays differently. It’s not so funny (not that it ever really was). It’s Alicia trying to hide her addiction in flirtation. She says it as a joke, but she means it more than she’d like to. Jason(‘s dick) won’t save her from alcoholism. He won’t make her feel better in the long-term (if the relationship proceeds like this). But he’ll help her get by from day to day without sliding back into a dark place, and Alicia’s flailing and reaching out for anything to keep her occupied as she tries not to fall back down that hole.  

Jason is receptive to this line: “Way to make me feel guilty.” “You want thinks simple, I want things simple, too. So here it is: I want you again. Don’t you want it?” Alicia flirts. Problem not solved, but mission accomplished, because Jason responds with “I want it.”

I don’t know what Jason’s motivations are. I don’t know if he’s being manipulative, if he’s just horny, if he’s really interested in a relationship with Alicia, or if he genuinely wants to help her and has realized that if he wants to help her, he’s going to need to get her to start opening up to him, which will only happen if he’s receptive to her advances. (That last one is a little too charitable on my behalf. He can only help her as a friend by getting her to open her legs? Uh huh, right, absolutely nothing at play there other than concern for a friend…)

And now we’re back in the NSA offices as the boys listen in on Alicia and Jason’s sexy banter. Doesn’t look like things are good for the Florrick wiretap. I can’t tell whether this scene means it’s going to be shut down or not, but I would prefer not to see it again, even if that means this episode and 7x06 are even more of a waste than I initially thought.

The episode ends with an avalanche and a big splash of water in a video the NSA guys are sharing with each other. At least it wasn’t a goat?

[florrickandassociates]

TGW Thoughts: 7x14-- Monday

Thoughts on 7x14 under the cut! 

The elevator doors open on the LAL reception desk. “Welcome to Lockhart, Agos, and Lee,” Diane narrates. “As you probably know, we are an all-service law firm with a rich tradition. The firm was formed twelve years ago by Jonas Stern, and myself, Diane Lockhart.” Only twelve years ago? Formed by Stern and Diane, but not Will? Continuity errors abound. Or maybe not—Stern/Diane founding and Will joining later was the narrative up until season five. Whatever. Diane is looking for a narrative here, not accuracy. (Also, LOL at that portrait of Stern.)

“Last year, the firm reconstituted itself with Cary Agos and David Lee as name partners,” Diane says, omitting the part where… well, the entire series happens. I presume you’ve watched it, so I won’t recap it.

“We occupy two floors in the Dryden building: the executive suite on the 28th floor and the 27th floor, where support staff and most associates work,” Diane explains. Hey! Stock footage! It’s like the good old days! Also, the Dryden building is not exist, and the building they’ve used to show the firm since season one is actually the Jeweler’s Building.

“As a new associate, you will be given a card key for your assigned floor, and you will be provided an employee handbook. Due to severe overcrowding, not all of you will receive an office. Some of you may have to work from cubicles for the moment.” Ah. So this is orientation day for a new crop of associates.

We cut to the room where Diane’s speaking after all of this exposition and re-establishing. “Lockhart, Agos, and Lee is a true meritocracy,” she begins to conclude her remarks, making me laugh uncontrollably. Yes. If there’s one thing we’ve seen over the years it’s DEFINITELY that LAL/LG/whatever the fuck it is/was/will be is a true meritocracy. “One of our name partners came from where you sit now in a mere six years. It can be done, and we expect no less of you,” Diane explains. BWAH! Cary Agos, straight white rich boy, POSTER CHILD FOR TRUE MERITOCRACY. And not only that, but Cary’s rise has been anything but meritocratic. That’s not to say he doesn’t deserve to be name partner, but this is the firm that fired him (twice) and once offered him a partnership because they were starved for money and his buy-in would give them quick cash. It’s the firm he left because he felt they weren’t valuing him based on merit, and a firm he’s only a name partner of now because he tied himself to Alicia, who is herself valuable because she tied herself to Peter. Lockhart, Agos, and Lee: A True Meritocracy.

(Yes, I know this is all a sales pitch—the glossing over of struggle, the use of the word “reconstituted” to describe something a lot more complicated that involved becoming another firm overnight. It’s still totally inaccurate, even if it’s exactly what Diane needs to be saying in this situation.)

The camera pans around the room to reveal that… Lucca—a very uncomfortable Lucca, aware that she’s being talked down to—is one of these new associates. Notably, Alicia is not.

Alicia is… on an elevator headed straight to the 28th. Lucca meets her there. “Well, look at you, big-time lawyer,” Alicia greets her. “Well, look at you, coming back home,” Lucca replies. Home. It does look right to see Alicia in this space, but is it really home for her? We’ll see. (“You Can’t Go Home Again” was the title of 1x03 before they decided to make all the titles one word. Can you go home again now?)

“Yep. Not much has changed,” Alicia sighs. She’s not excited to be back. “Did we make a mistake?” Lucca wonders. “I don’t know. We’ll see,” Alicia replies.

Cary walks in. “Hey, Alicia,” he greets Alicia, arms literally outstretched. They hug. “God, this is really weird,” Alicia frets. “I know, but not bad weird, is it?” Cary asks. “Not yet,” Alicia replies. She’s been there thirty seconds and she’s having doubts.

Cary tells Alicia there’s no room for her on the 28th—Alicia already knew that—and that she’s getting the biggest office on the 27th. “Hey, it’s where I started out,” Alicia accepts. Lucca is constantly in the frame during this exchange, but she’s silent, neither speaking nor being spoken to. If it wasn’t already obvious, she’s only there because the firm’s doing Alicia a favor. They don’t care about Lucca.

“It’s where we started out,” Cary reminds Alicia, and aaaaaaaahhhhhh season 1!!!! I miss season one. One of the things I like most about season one, on rewatch, is how well-built the world of the firm feels because there’s a clear hierarchy in place. Rather than upsetting everything at the partner level (which they also do), the writers can find a lot of drama in the relationships between the characters who have power and the characters who have no power. Alicia and Cary have to compete while deferring to Diane and Will and Stern, but also to more senior associates and partners. In the later seasons, everyone becomes (at least in theory) everyone else’s equal, which means it’s harder to draw out tensions organically.  Now we seem to be returning to a world where the characters are spread out: Diane and Cary are name partners, Alicia is a junior partner who doesn’t have as much status as she used to, and Lucca is a first year associate.

As Alicia and Cary (and Lucca) walk to the 27th floor, Lucca whispers to Alicia, “And I’m on the 27th too, so we can pass notes.” Hehe.

Lucca continues to follow Alicia and Cary to Alicia’s office. Lucca gets a cubicle. Alicia gets an office (Finn’s office? Her season one office? They’ve redone the 27th floor set since season one so it’s hard to get my bearings) and a bottle of champagne waiting for her. Again, Lucca stays in the frame throughout this scene, in focus as Cary presents Alicia with her new office, stresses their shared history, presents her with a gift from the partners, and asks Alicia to grab lunch with him.

Cary doesn’t totally ignore Lucca, though. He makes sure to tell her about how she needs to meet Monica at some point. Monica, whom she’s already met. Multiple times. All while Cary was present. Monica, whom Cary assumes Lucca will just adore because they’re both black.

“We’ve already met,” Lucca clarifies. “Oh, oh, right, yeah, on the ChumHum case. Well, you’ll love her,” Cary stumbles. Lucca knows what’s going on. “Shall we drink that now?” she asks Alicia the second Cary’s out of the room.

Alicia laughs and sits down in her chair… which promptly breaks. Hey, where have I seen that before? http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lyydxkwbrq1qzkueso1_500.gif

“Yeah, I’d hire you,” Lucca jokes. Then Howell—you know, the IT guy that taught Kalinda how to fake metadata?—bursts in and says, for real, “Alicia! I think I need to hire you.” Heh. She greets Howell and introduces Lucca.

Tech case time! Important points: Howell has an unreleased ChumHum tablet (his girlfriend found it) that tech blogs want to buy from him, Lucca knows something about tech, and Alicia knows nothing about tech.

Lucca hears $100,000 and jumps on the case. If this were Florrick/Quinn, sure! But this is Lockhart/Agos/Lee, and Alicia’s back to her usual considerate self after last week’s I’m Going To Sue A Sitting Judge What Could Possibly Go Wrong fiasco. She stops Lucca to consult for a moment, and says “This could be sticky.”

Cut to a juice bar, where Marissa is working, serving a juice drink called a Selfie. Marissa must hate this place.

A cute young guy walks up to order, and begins to flirt with Marissa. He asks her out. This would be so cute if he weren’t an FBI agent (the one from 7x03!) trying to bring down Peter.

“It’s so good to have you back,” Diane welcomes Alicia with a hug. “Home is where they take you in, right?” Alicia responds. “Happily take you in,” Diane adds. Alicia then introduces Lucca, who Diane says she remembers from earlier this morning (not several times they’ve met in court?). Diane also says she has to introduce Lucca to Monica, and Lucca politely reminds Diane that she has already met Monica, on the Chummie Maps case.

Case talk happens, and more interesting than the case talk is that everything Lucca says gets dismissed patronizingly by the partners because it’s coming from Lucca.

Cary and Diane don’t want to risk a lawsuit over a favor to an employee—which makes a lot of sense to me--, but Lucca gets a plan in motion, calling to try to “return” the tablet so Howell is covered under the law.

I don’t hate Alicia’s wig as much in this episode. It looks more like actual hair, and that’s good.

“So this is bureaucracy,” Lucca says as Cary and Diane discuss whether or not to take the case. Alicia rolls her eyes. This case quickly becomes representative of the difference in power between the partners and Alicia (and Lucca, but Lucca has no power at all).

The Marissa/agent convo is fun and has a lot of good background on Marissa, but doesn’t contain much worth transcribing (even though it’s very worth watching). Hlavin or whatever his name is begins to ask questions about Eli the second he gets a chance. Marissa catches on fast. “You are a curious one, aren’t you?” She begins to record the conversation. Smart.

As soon as she gets off work, Marissa heads to Eli’s office to tell him what’s happened. Eli wants to know what he looks like, and Marissa covered that, too—she convinced him to take a selfie with her. I am in awe, Marissa.

Eli sees him and recognizes him right away: he’s Roland Hlavin. Eli wants details on the conversation, and Marissa, understanding that she doesn’t have her father’s gift for remembering exact conversations years (or even hours) later, begins to play the audio recording.

Eli takes a moment to stop panicking and be proud of his daughter. “What?” Marissa asks. “It’s just… now I get why people have children. They can admire themselves in someone else,” Eli responds. BWAH!

Sparky is waiting outside of Alicia’s office, with a grin on his face, when she returns. She shows him around her new office, including the broken chair.

“I like it. It fits you,” Jason comments. “Off-center?” Alicia asks. “Tilted,” he responds. She laughs. Is this an acknowledgment that she’s still not centered and is still struggling? Certainly, she’s still struggling with the fallout of the disastrous career move she made last week and she’s off-balance at LAL, but might it extend beyond that? 

Then they have a really happy flirty conversation about Jason’s beard. Okay. I like seeing smiling silly Alicia, so, okay.

“We kissed,” Alicia says straightforwardly. “I know,” Jason replies.” “So what do we do now?” Alicia asks. “I don’t know. I’m not big on planning,” Jason says. RUN, ALICIA, RUN! Run away from all things unplanned because I’m getting really sick of writing about the necessity of plans!

No, but really, I’m fine with this. They do need to have plans, but it doesn’t need to be that serious yet, and there’s less planning required here than there would’ve been with Will in 1x23 (and she’s not talking about leaving Peter for Jason, at least not yet) (and her kids are both basically out of the house, not in middle school). I’m apprehensive about anyone around Alicia suggesting that plans don’t matter, but not to the point where I’m going to read a lot into what’s really just flirty banter putting the ball in Alicia’s court.

Plus, it seems pretty clear they both intend to continue this, since the next place the conversation goes is to the ethics/awkwardness of a workplace romance in a corporate environment.

It’s almost sickening how saccharine this scene is. So flirty. God. They just keep smiling at each other like teenagers. No way that kind of happiness—giddiness is probably closer to the right word, actually—lasts, but it must be pretty enjoyable in the moment.

ALICIA IN GLASSES ALERT!

Cary wants to drop the Howell case, and now Alicia feels the need to confront him about this because Howell is an employee. Well. That’s not really why. Mostly because this stopped being about Howell and started being about LAL’s values a while ago. There’s a certain pattern they follow where their business interests will take precedence over helping employees, and Alicia doesn’t like it one bit. She’s currently receiving good treatment, but she knows how it works all too well.

They have to take the case now, anyway, because Howell is being arrested by some police force none of the LAL lawyers have ever heard of. And… title credits!

As shaky as Alicia’s return to LAL is (both on a character level and on a meta level), it is really lovely to see Alicia, Diane, and Cary working together again. It’s been a while. And even if Alicia’s journey may take her away from Diane and Cary, the show as a whole does tend to work better when all/most of its regulars are in the same place.

Neil Gross himself shows up in the dirty interrogation room. That’s weird. He is still an asshole. There are so many assholes in this episode. Gross wants to know who gave Howell the prototype, and then everything will be fine (for Howell). Basically, this weird division of the police seems to be in ChumHum’s pocket, and Cary et al are suspicious.

Speaking of assholes, the next person we see is Schakowsky. I don’t dislike him as a character, but he enrages me. Breathe in. Breathe out.

It’s a short scene, anyway. Eli is tracking down anyone who could potentially be a problem for Peter, and Schakowsky is his first stop because of the past connection to Hlavin and the bribery thing Eli tipped him off about. Apparently, Hlavin is asking about Alicia. Uh oh.

Court stuff happens. Lucca’s called off the case by Diane.

This judge feels so season one. I love it. So much quirk. This wouldn’t work for me, except that it makes me nostalgic, and that works for me very well at this point in time (eight episodes left!). (He’s not a season one judge. He is, however, a season three judge.)

Alicia keeps taking her glasses on and off and on and off and on and off. That must be so frustrating. Can we get a subplot about Alicia’s vision and why she started to wear glasses in season six, and why she wears them all the time now?

At the office, Diane informs Lucca she needs her on the Dipple filing. Ouch. Grunt work. At least it’s grunt work for a top client? (“The Dipple filing” is the new “Sheffron-Marks” or “Murphy-Gomez” only it seems even less substantial than those projects ever did.) Diane and Cary insist that Lucca prioritize the Dipple filing over the Howell defense. Whether this is because they’re trying to prove a point (to Lucca or to Alicia) about firm dynamics or because they need another hand on the filing is unclear. Both, perhaps?

“You can work with Monica,” Diane explains. “You’ll love working with her,” Cary adds, again.

MONICA remembers Lucca right away. “So. I’m supposed to really like you,” Monica says the second the white people leave. “Yes. Let’s share about our common experiences,” Lucca responds.

Court stuff happens.

“Foundation. Sure. That’s an objection. Overruled.” I kinda love this judge.

Eli tracks down Marissa at work. She says Hlavin didn’t say anything of note about Alicia, but that she’s willing to go on a “date” with him to find out more and/or protect Alicia.

The opening of the next act is a visual I love deeply: Eli reclining on Alicia’s couch. Season one <3

As soon as I saw a couch in Alicia’s office, I thought, “I hope we get a scene of Eli sitting on it.” I didn’t think they’d actually give us a shot of Eli stretched out on it. Awwwww! I’m happy.

“So. The 27th floor again. Everything comes full circle, doesn’t it?” Eli comments. “Yes. First the tragedy, then the farce,” Alicia adds. That seems like a highly appropriate comment for more than just Alicia being back on the 27th floor.

Eli makes sure they’re on good terms (they are). “I think the feds are investigating you,” he informs Alicia just as her chair tilts again. Huh. Could that maybe be symbolic or something? Alicia’s in a precarious position? Hmmm. HMMMMMMMMMMM.

“Oh God, it never ends,” Alicia comments. I think she’s even said this line before (I want to say right after she won SA). Hell, she’s probably said it several times before.

Also neverending is the parade of assholes in this episode. Mr. Asshole Genius, who you may remember from 7x07, is back, to be an asshole genius going head to head with another asshole genius.

For being a former partner at LG, Eli gets pretty offended when Asshole Genius mistakes him for a lawyer. I’ve always wondered if Eli has a law degree. I don’t think he does, but it might make sense for him to.

Asshole Genius is not okay with LAL having cases other than the one he is involved with. But since making Asshole Genius happy also means getting to work with/fight for Lucca, Alicia’s cool with Lucca staying.

Court stuff happens. Did you know Lucca got her name because her parents travel a lot?

Guess who’s back? Ruth Eastman!!! Didn’t realize (until I read the press release) that we’d be seeing her again! She’s sitting behind Eli’s desk, waiting for him.

Before she explains why she’s there, she comments on the painting Courtney gave Eli. She doesn’t like it—all the people look like they want something and that makes her nervous. Anyway, she’s worried Eli’s out to get her because she just received a grand jury subpoena from the FBI. Yet another ham sandwich? YAHS to make it one word?

Eli had nothing to do with this subpoena, and reassures Ruth it’s just standard procedure (they both know it’s not) while internally freaking the fuck out.

The second Ruth leaves, Eli calls Marissa and asks her to ask Hlavin out on another date. Yikes.

Cary finds Monica working on the Dipple filing alone. Lucca shows up just in time, but there are agents with a search warrant in the office now, and that’s more important than if Lucca is doing paperwork or not. The agents are looking for the ChumHum tablet… which they won’t find, because Lucca has it.

Okay. Nelson McCormick, the director of this episode, is doing a much better job here than he did in 6x21 (dude: your ability to make things look cool is not as important as telling the story well and in keeping with the aesthetic of the show), but why the hell is this sequence shot with a handheld camera? Distracting and unnecessary. (Maybe this is a cinematography thing—I’m never quite sure where to draw the line—but it seems like a rare thing to happen on TGW so I blame the director.)

Back from break, Diane is lecturing Lucca about how she failed to follow orders. Lucca sits on a couch. Diane and Cary tower over her. Alicia stands in the background. See? http://images.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/screencaps/the-good-wife-2009/season7/s07e14/s07e14_438.jpg Power dynamics.

Diane pulls Alicia aside to talk. “So. We have to find a working rhythm here again,” Diane opens once they’re seated in her office. “I know. The Howell case got a bit out of hand,” Alicia responds. “No, it’s bigger than that,” Diane adds. “Okay,” Alicia says.

“When Cary suggested that you come back, I wasn’t against it, but I was afraid that there might be a few bumps,” Diane explains. “Which bumps might those be?” Alicia inquires where she once might’ve apologized.

“A certain independence and a resistance to oversight,” Diane lists. This is accurate—and it’s not unreasonable of Diane to expect that her employee (former partner and FLOIL or not) to not resist her authority.

“Okay. Tell me how you would like me to improve,” Alicia says. She’s got her interview voice on…

“Lucca isn’t your associate. She is the firm’s associate,” Diane states. “I understand. She caught the Howell case with me, so I thought the associate that caught the case stays with the case,” Alicia defends herself. “Sometimes. If the partners agree,” Diane says, playing rank. (McCormick, you don’t need to shoot this at a high angle. Shot-reverse-shot will suffice.) Alicia apologizes and asks if Diane has anything else.

She does: “Lucca needs to know that she is answerable to the firm, and not just to you.” Alicia’s been shying away from actually picking a fight, being polite yet pointed and accepting Diane’s criticisms, but here, she starts to push back. “And that’s why you have her on the Dipple case?” Alicia asks.

Diane says it’s just because they needed someone on the Dipple case. Yeah. Sure.

“Diane. I’m thrilled to be back. I want to be of service. But I also returned with some cases, clients, and knowledge,” Alicia tries to spin. Diane pushes back. “You mean in bond court?”

Even though Diane’s mocking her, Alicia refuses to let the insult land. “Yes. I do mean in bond court. Lucca is good. She’s smart and forward leaning and a prodigy. And, with respect, she shouldn’t be given grunt work.” Yay! And by yay, I mean, “I’m glad that Alicia is defending her new friend when it would be much easier for her to lay low and stay out of trouble!”

Also: 7x01 was originally titled Grunts, because (as Canning says), the work of a bar attorney is grunt work. Alicia had a learning curve to figure out how to deal with the grunt work of Lucca’s world, and now Lucca, in Alicia’s world, has to learn how to deal with this other form of grunt work. Alicia had Lucca to help her out, and now Lucca has Alicia to do as much as she can. 7x01 hinted, a bit, at the fact that Lucca is smart and capable but might be out of her element doing work outside of bond court, and 7x14 picks up that thread. (We’ve seen Lucca shift to dealing with cases more like the ones LAL takes on; now she has to learn the corporate structure.)

“Your advice is welcome. The partners will consider it. Thank you,” Diane brushes Alicia off. (This is one of those, “I plan to decide in the next 48 hours…” statements.)

“Anything else?” Alicia probes. “No, you can go,” Diane dismisses her. Alicia nods. Not only was that the most hostile friendly meeting ever (so many “fuck you”s left unsaid!), but Diane slipped up (or did she?) at the end, dismissing Alicia the way she would dismiss a low level staffer. “You can go,” suggests that Alicia would be unable to leave the meeting without Diane’s approval. “No, that’s all for now,” would’ve ended the meeting, too. Alicia has other things to do; she didn’t need to be given permission to leave. But Diane gave her permission to leave, and Alicia recognized that underneath all the pleasantries, Diane is trying to prove a point: she outranks her.

This is not a bad point for Diane to want to prove! Alicia is not a name partner and she’s lucky they took her back in. She holds some status, but not much, and Diane needs to set precedents upfront if she wants to be able to manage the firm. I totally support Diane in making it clear where things stand with her firm. I may not approve of her (and Cary’s) methods (giving Lucca grunt work to prove a point? Sigh), but she, not Alicia, is the boss. I feel for Alicia, trying to stick up for a friend and not appreciating having her experiences trivialized, but… Diane is still the boss. If Alicia doesn’t want to deal with that, then she shouldn’t have agreed to come back, or she should leave the second she’s back on her feet.

Court stuff happens. How am I going to pretend to understand the tech world when this show ends?! I’ve gotten by in so many conversations because of these cases. I knew what bitcoin was before it was cool, and I bet you all did, too. (Confession: I still don’t quite get bitcoin beyond what Zach and Nisa explained about it in 3x13.)

Aaaaand… breathe. When Eli asked Marissa to set up another date, I was worried that this would lead to some “funny” plotline where a father asks his daughter to seduce a man to get information. Nah. Eli just wants a place and time to find Hlavin so he can talk to him. Phew.

We still don’t know what this anti-Florrick mess is about. Engaging. Here’s hoping it’s something with only a moderate amount of plot holes!

Alicia and Jason talk about case stuff. Jason mentions that a tech site wants to buy the ChumHum tablet for more than they originally offered, so… Alicia runs to Lucca’s cubicle. “Please tell me you haven’t been negotiating with Gadgy,” Alicia starts. Lucca’s a little offended Alicia thinks she’s been negotiating, so Alicia explains: “You’ve been hell-bent on proving Cary and Diane wrong. You can’t dig in on principle at a firm like this.” You can’t when you’re on your own and barely getting by either, right, Alicia? Isn’t that why you ended up back here? (Also, I feel like Alicia dug in on principle all the time at SLG? Not intentionally spiteful stuff to prove a point like this would be, but changing strategies and taking on pet cases and stuff.)

“I know that coming here wasn’t your first choice, believe me, it wasn’t mine, but our hand was forced,” Alicia advises. Damn, after 7x12’s final scene, I assumed Lucca had been on board with coming to LAL in some capacity (maybe not the associate part). I would’ve loved to have seen the Alicia/Lucca conversation where they made this decision.

Back to the case! Howell was tweeting! And now they have a strategy!

Eli can now tell Ruth the target is Peter, not her. Eli doesn’t know what the issue will be. Ruth tells him that it’s whatever one they never kept files on. I wonder what it could be. No, really—I have no idea if there’s an unresolved thread, if they’re going to retcon something, if there’s something that could be taken out of context, or if they’re (either the government or the writers) going to invent something we’ve never heard of.

At least Eli and Ruth are on good terms now!

Court stuff happens! Howell is free!

Cary tells Lucca the Howell case went well, and now he needs her on something else. Lucca saved the day and now gets to be an honorary partner, right!? Of course not. She’s back to doing paperwork with Monica. The hierarchy of the firm is here to stay, regardless of the outcome of one case.

“Do you know any spirituals?” Monica says to Lucca, who laughs. Hehe.

Ruth is waiting in Alicia’s office now. She doesn’t sit down behind her desk, the way she did with Eli. Instead, she stands and waits, a bottle of tequila in hand. (Maybe she did try to sit at the desk, then encountered the Broken Chair Of Comedy and Symbolism!) Alicia is happy to see Ruth, and also happy to see the tequila, which she opens.

“Rough day?” Ruth asks. “It was a bumpy reentry,” Alicia explains. “Yes, I was surprised. I thought you reveled in your independence,” Ruth remarks. “Big decisions are easy when you have no other options,” Alicia states. True. True, true, true.

Whatever type of tequila Ruth brought is strong by Alicia’s standards. Woah.

Ruth warns Alicia about the target on Peter’s back. “No question Peter loves you, but he can hurt you. Drag you down. Not only destroy everything you’ve done, but everything you want to do. Cash out while you still can.” Huh. I was wondering when Alicia’s marriage was going to come back into play, since it’s one of the remaining things in her life she needs to address. Big decisions are easy when you have no other options, Alicia says. Does she have other options here? Will she feel a desire to stay married to Peter through this ordeal because she cares enough about him not to leave him right before a grand jury? Will she want to stay married through the duration of the grand jury in case it turns on her or in case she’s forced to turn on Peter—both things which, if I understand spousal privilege correctly, would be much less likely with the marriage still intact? Or will she see this as her moment to get out once and for all? I really can’t say, but Alicia does seem to be taking Ruth’s words to heart.

Ruth leaves. The chair tilts again because ALICIA IS OFF-CENTER! IN EVERY ELEMENT OF HER LIFE!! This news is UNSETTLING!!! And SHIFTS HER WORLD!!! (I don’t mind this chair thing too much, but oy, this show and symbolism…)

The camera pulls back to show Alicia, in her office, slowly drinking tequila, surrounded by the commotion and expanse of LAL. The angle’s a little different here, but I’m choosing to read this as a reference to the last shot of Pilot.

(In her other offices, Alicia has spun around on chairs to appreciate her space. Here, her chair is broken.)

[florrickandassociates]

TGW Thoughts: 7x13-- Judged

My thoughts on 7x13 under the cut! Sorry for the delay! 

Music plays as people pass through the hallways of the Cook County courthouse. The camera zooms in on Alicia, sitting, distracted, and sporting a terrible wig, as the sea of people continues to flow past her. Whatever’s going on around her, she’s not a part of it. The music is upbeat and the people move quickly; Alicia stays in place.

At least, she stays in place until Lucca interrupts her to ask a simple question. Alicia’s slow to respond and flatly offers incomplete answers. Lucca notices.

MY GOD, CAN SOMEONE PLEASE COME AND BURN THIS HORRIBLE WIG THAT ALICIA HAS ON HER HEAD??????????????????????? IT’S SO DISTRACTING. The center part is atrocious (and makes it look like a wig). It looks flat and unhealthy. The length doesn’t suit her at all. The cut is too dramatic. I hate this wig more than I’ve hated any wig since season three, possibly more than I hated the season three wig.

“What’s wrong with you?” Lucca asks Alicia in court. “I’m just taking a minute to catch up, that’s all,” Alicia says, exhausted. I wish 7x12 hadn’t happened, or had played out differently. I understand this mood from Alicia after 7x11, but she’s mostly fine in 7x12. Unless her conversation with Marissa brought her back to this place, it feels like there’s a link missing.

Alicia and Lucca run into Bar Attorney Bernie (yes, I’m still amused by the rhyme) in court and express surprise to see him “upstairs.” There’s bond court overflow in this courtroom, and I don’t understand this system at all. What is Schakowsky’s role? Is he a bond court judge, or is he doing something else now? Why is it surprising to see Bar Attorney Bernie in this courtroom when it wasn’t surprising to see Schakowsky presiding over the trial in KSR?

Alicia momentarily snaps out of her funk because something—or someone, rather—catches her eye. Her second client in bond court, still behind bars. “Help me,” he mouths.

The man won’t go to trial for another two months, so he’s escorted back to lockup, where Alicia slips in to meet with him. “You were in bond court eight months ago,” she realizes. (So 7x01-7x13 = 8 months show time, 4 months real time, lol timeline.) He’s been in jail for eight months on a disorderly charge. (Wow, Schakowsky’s antics must cost Cook County a lot of money. 8 months is a long time to hold someone.) He’s been through five lawyers, gotten no justice, and his bail’s still set unreasonably high because Schakowsky couldn’t let Alicia take an extra two seconds. (I really hate this asshole. Better to keep a man who did nothing/something minor and routine in jail for eight months than to slow down the system a teeny tiny bit? Fuck off, and never, ever, ever again try to argue that you’re trying to make things more efficient. And I haven’t even mentioned the corruption yet.)  

Alicia offers to help, cut to… Alicia explaining the case to a disapproving Lucca. “And you want to do what for him?” Lucca asks. “Get him out!” Alicia responds. Lucca points out that Schakowsky will never move up the trial date, so Alicia suggests SUING SCHAKOWSKY. Does this maybe sound like a terrible idea to anyone else?!

(Yes. It also sounds like a terrible idea to Lucca, but she ultimately plays along.)

“Is this about getting back at Schakowsky?” Lucca asks. “No,” Alicia insists. “No!” (It is. In a way.)

“Then is this to assuage your guilty conscience?” Lucca follows up. “This is about getting a man who has been unlawfully imprisoned for eight months out of jail so he can be with his kid,” Alicia fights. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiight. It doesn’t have anything to do with you feeling personally responsible, angry because you know first-hand that Schakowsky screwed the guy over, and like you’re in a position where you can help. I don’t think Alicia’s being selfish here—sort of selfless, actually, in how much she’s willing to risk—but I think she’s being uncharacteristically short-sighted (the intensity about a cause or client isn’t uncharacteristic—taking it this far probably is, though she does lie to a judge in 6x21 on a pretty small case) and taking responsibility for something that’s not her fault that she can’t really fix. I appreciate that she wants to fight for someone who’s been wronged. This is still a bad move. She’s still looking for an outlet or a cause or something to bring meaning to her life.

Lucca’s trying to argue against taking the case when someone knocks on the door. Alicia answers, and it’s… SPARKY! Alicia didn’t realize he was back. He came back early because he didn’t like it. (And, you know, because Courtney wasn’t going to care if he left early since Peter lost.)

Jason is wearing a hat that says “take a byte out of Silicon Valley” and… I’m sure someone on the California-based writing team had a lot of fun with the Jason-in-California plot. He even got Alicia oven mitts with the same slogan on them! How thoughtful. Are these so that she can take the frozen mini tacos out of the oven?

Things are very awkward between Jason and Alicia. He asks if she has work for him and for a $20 raise; she asks to consult with Lucca. He leaves, but she calls after him to say she’s glad he’s back.

I really love the camera movement that reframes Alicia, going from a medium long-shot of Alicia (center of the frame) in the doorway to a close up of Alicia (left of the frame) without the door visible until she closes it.

Jason, in the elevator now, phones Diane looking for work. She needs his help on some case that sorry I’ve already fallen asleep due to the irrelevance of this case… zzzzzzzz…

I… like the idea of Diane working a case for a long-time friend/client and knowing the family. There’s that, at least. (I also like the idea of showing Jason working for Diane in this episode. We just didn’t need so much actual case stuff. I repeat: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.)

Alicia stares at her bowl of cereal, watching it turn into a soggy mess and letting it fall off the spoon into the bowl. (I love Rosemary and I love Rosemary’s directing. But. This canted angle is not necessary. And this wig is so bad. (The wig isn’t Rosemary’s fault.)) (Who is responsible for this thing on Alicia’s head?!?! I want names!)

She also looks at the potholder Jason gave her. Symbolism? Burning desire for Jason? (Good thing she has a potholder to help her with the heat!)

Eli walks through the halls of the governor’s office and opens his door to find Alicia waiting. She’s taken it upon herself to sit in Eli’s chair (the way Kalinda used to sit at people’s desks), establishing that she’s the one with the power here.

I REALLY HATE THIS EFFING WIG.

Eli opens (he’s invited her here) by apologizing again. He’s sorry he hurt her. He’s sorry he erased the message. He thinks about it every day. But Alicia doesn’t want an apology now: she wants the facts. She wants to know what the message said.

“I want to know everything he said, word for word,” Alicia demands. Why, that sounds unrealistic! Who would be able to remember word for word a voicemail they heard, out of context, six years earlier, while at a press conference, while they were doing other things? No one, right? But fear not, Eli Gold is here to prove that notion wrong: HE REMEMBERS ALL.  

Here is what Eli says the voicemail said: “You want to know what my plan is? My plan is that I love you. […] He’d always loved you, ever since Georgetown. […] He said he would meet you anywhere and you could make a plan then. […] If this didn’t make sense to you, to ignore him, to ignore the message, and things will go on as usual.”

Here is what the voicemail said: “You want to know my plan? My plan is I love you. Okay? I've probably loved you ever since Georgetown. So phone me. I'll meet you anywhere and we will make a plan. If none of this makes sense to you, just ignore it. No embarrassment, nothing. We'll just go back to where things stood.”

WHY WOULD ELI REMEMBER ALL OF THIS? I DON’T REMEMBER ALL OF THIS WORD FOR WORD, AND DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES I’VE SAT DOWN AND TRANSCRIBED AND SCREENCAPPED AND WATCHED THAT SCENE???? It takes me out of the show to hear it repeated nearly word for word like that. It’s just absurd to me that anyone would remember all that detail.

Anyway, despite this huge flaw (and, I get it, it’s necessary for storytelling purposes to get that information to Alicia and to remind the audience, and I am not sure I would want to see Alicia freaking out over something Eli misremembered—can you imagine the shitshow that would follow Eli saying something like, “He said he loved you, that you could ignore the message if you didn’t want to pursue things, and I think he also mentioned something about having a plan?”), the scene is still telling. Alicia wants facts and details, the way she did in 5x16, the way she always does and always will. That’s how she makes sense of the world. Eli wants to protect her from more pain (maybe should’ve thought of that before you went and told a woman already having a bad day that you deleted a voicemail of love from her dead former lover whom you know she ended up giving it a go with anyway) but Alicia still wants to hear it. Alicia calls it her “right” to torture herself with this information. She’s torturing herself either way.

When Eli gets to the part about meeting to make a plan—the part I’ve always thought was a nice gesture on Will’s part but one that totally missed what Alicia was asking for—, Alicia immediately wants to know if Will had set a time or place. Of course he hadn’t. I don’t know if Alicia thinks she stood him up or if she just wants even more facts, but… I dunno, if Alicia’s asking Eli six years later and after Will’s dead for time/place, that just reaffirms my belief that Alicia never would’ve been satisfied in that moment with MY PLAN IS I LOVE YOU.

… but that doesn’t matter. No matter how much I harp on that point, what the voicemail actually would’ve accomplished doesn’t matter. What matters now is what it could’ve accomplished, and it could’ve unlocked happily ever after. Screw probability and rationality. There was a chance.

Alicia has to turn away from Eli to hear the rest. She realizes Will must’ve thought she had received the message. She turns around to look at Eli after she pieces it together. Devastating. At least she knows he didn’t die thinking she had ignored him, since she should remember that she asked him about the deleted voicemail in season 2. (Does she remember that, or did Eli absorb her ability to remember major events in order to strengthen his recall of the exact wording of deleted voicemails?)

Once again, Alicia’s on the verge of tears. She leaves Eli’s office and heads to court, disoriented but determined.

Judge Schakowsky stops her in the hallway to ask her if she’s out of her “tiny little mind.” “You don’t need to say ‘little’ when you say ‘tiny’; one or the other will do,” Alicia taunts. I appreciate this. Schakowsky’s whole thing in bond court was DON’T WASTE MY TIME, but he is disrespectful and self-indulgent and loves the sound of his own voice. I noted in 7x04 that Schakowsky finds the time to use like four analogies to make one point about not wasting time to Alicia. So, yay for calling Schakowsky out on using redundant words!

Schakowsky is a dick and threatens Alicia (though, honestly, he doesn’t have to: she’s hurting her own status by suing him without even trying to gather support first); Alicia is all, I’m helping an innocent man! You are the worst!

I would love to root for Alicia here. She is totally right. Schakowsky is corrupt and terrible and believe me there would be nothing more satisfying to end this arc than to see him behind bars where he belongs. But it’s not going to happen, no matter how hard Alicia fights. She and her client are better off not making the situation worse, to the point where I would call this reckless, not brave. It’s… quixotic.  

“See you in court!” Alicia screams at Schakowsky. Melodramatic line to throw to title credits? Check.  

Lucca looks uncomfortable as Alicia argues against the judge in court, but she still sits there. Eventually, she jumps in to help by bringing up the bail amount, which the judge (not Schakowsky; the presiding judge, Mata) thinks is excessive. Lucca continues to give information, and it’s clear that Schakowsky’s decision was… not right.

We go from one case to another, and while I like the thematic link of cutting from one case to the next, this serves to underline how unnecessary Diane’s case is in this episode.

Martha (of Marthas and Caitlins) is back, though, which is probably the highlight of this plotline. She’s back in college arbitration or whatever this is technically called. I wonder if she still works for Canning.

Jason stops by arbitration with some relevant information, and Diane offers him a job, again. He also gives her a relevant case to cite, which impresses her. She apparently doesn’t know his background, which strikes me as odd. She desperately wants to hire him, yet hasn’t run a background check to find out he was disbarred? Okay then.

Back in Alicia/Lucca’s world, things aren’t going well, so Alicia starts anxiously fidgeting and spacing out. Or maybe she’s thinking about the case. Possibly both.

More on the arbitration storyline! We’ve officially reached the most boring portion of this episode.

More in Alicia and Lucca’s world! Bar attorney Bernie is testifying, and the poor guy is clearly under pressure to lie and only say things favorable towards Judge Schakowsky. Alicia, Lucca (but especially Alicia): if you were going to pursue this, you needed to line up support from others first.

I think my anger level spikes higher when I see Schakowsky than it does when I see Alicia’s wig. A two shot of them would be my worst nightmare.

Lucca channels 4x22 Patti Nyholm and tries to block Bernie from looking at Schakowsky.

Court really, really, really isn’t going well, and Alicia’s agitated. Aaand the case is dismissed. But this is act two, so it’s not over yet…

Lucca sits at a bar with two drinks in front of her. She’s on the left side of the frame with a seat open next to her, suggesting that someone will join her—and someone does: Jason. She passes him the other drink, then asks him why he didn’t let her know he was back in town. He didn’t realize Alicia never passed the message on. Wasn’t Lucca in the apartment when Jason stopped by? And Alicia still didn’t tell her?

“What did you do to her?” Lucca asks after Jason explains the situation, drawing a connection between Alicia’s strange behavior and distance and her weirdness with Jason. Lucca accuses Jason of “screwing with her head,” meaning that he did his “smile thing, your bedroom eyes BS, ‘oh, I’m just a guy’s guy, I don’t know what I do to women.’” Bwah! He did! And yet, that’s not it.

He reassures Lucca he didn’t do a thing. She doesn’t accept it, but doesn’t argue it, either. So, what can we learn from this scene? That Lucca and Jason are friendly with each other (confirming what 7x11 hinted at), and that Lucca’s worried about Alicia’s mental state.

Alicia, meanwhile, is drinking alone. She has multiple bottles on her counter. Again with the canted angles! I still am not a fan. They’re not traditionally a part of TGW’s screen language, and while I imagine that’s the point—Alicia is off-kilter so the camera is, too-- it doesn’t feel to me like how TGW usually communicates. It’s so noticeable, but I think this scene would gain more from the use of contrast. If I were staging this scene, I’d either go from a two-shot of Jason and Lucca to a shot of Alicia alone (it cuts from just Lucca to just Alicia) and cut the canted angle, or keep it the way it is and shoot the Alicia scene so it’s off balance. Maybe something with lots of negative space, and Alicia over to one side of the frame.

Someone knocks at the door, and Alicia works up the energy to answer. It’s Bar Attorney Bernie, there to inform her that he’s taken (back) her client and that they’re now suing her. Dun dun dun…

Joy. The Diane case is back.

Alicia is furious about the malpractice suit! Lucca understands what’s going on: it’s just a payday for Bernie and the client. But even still, they only have $300,000 in malpractice insurance, and they’re (well, Alicia is) being sued for $1.2 million.

“We should put an investigator on it,” Lucca snarks when Alicia asks what evidence the other side has. She offers to phone Jason.

Alicia is fidgeting with her hands a lot in this episode. Does she usually do that this much?

When Lucca mentions she met with Jason the night before, an already volatile Alicia explodes. “Why?” she accuses. “He’s a friend,” Lucca says. “How close a friend?” Alicia sneers. Woah there.

“Seriously? Are you gonna hate the whole world right now?” Lucca fires back, understanding that whatever is going on with Alicia right now doesn’t really concern her. It would be the easiest thing in the world for Lucca to get defensive and then turn combative. She doesn’t, and that says a lot.

But she also doesn’t just let it go: she lets Alicia know that she and Jason were both surprised Alicia hadn’t let Lucca in the loop.

“Well, there was a lot going on,” Alicia deflects. “A lot that would have been alleviated by having an investigator,” Lucca correctly observes. “What’s going on, partner?”

Alicia leaves the office. Lucca follows, moments later. When she catches up to Alicia, Alicia is throwing things into the dryer. She sees Lucca approach, but turns immediately back to the chore. Remember how Robert King once said (I unfortunately don’t have a link to the source, which was an old issue of EW, but I do have the exact quote) that “Whenever Alicia is offered power, she reverts to housekeeping mode. She likes power, but is embarrassed that she likes power”? That’s never sat quite right with me. It’s true—the idea of wanting to take power embarrasses her, makes her anxious (and one can connect the task of doing laundry, in particular, to the end of 4x22)—but she does this “reverting to housekeeping mode” thing under other conditions, too. Namely: whenever she’s anxious. It’s how she keeps herself busy so she can keep going.

Here’s something I wrote in my recap of 6x04, Oppo Research, about the scene where Alicia goes overboard prepping for her meeting with Eli (and, unbeknownst to her at the time, Elfman): Perhaps my biggest problem with the “Alicia wants power” comment is that this is not a habit that’s solely connected to Alicia’s desire for power. It’s connected to something much deeper. Alicia behaves like this when there’s anything making her feel uncomfortable, from desire for power to uncertainty to boredom stemming from intense loneliness to excitement to plain old fear. How many times have we seen Alicia walk around her apartment, wanting to make sure everything’s in order? How many times have we seen her get visibly nervous and need to occupy her time? How many times have we seen her put everything in order because suddenly the most pressing thing in the world is that all of her laundry needs to be folded? By my count, it’s a lot, and not all of those instances can be linked to power in any way. I’ve mentioned before that one of my headcanons for Alicia is that she has (or has dealt with in the past) anxiety (diagnosed or not) and that she’s figured out how to live with it, embrace it, and act confident without letting her fear show through at all. 

I stand by that. Alicia doesn’t do well when she stops. When she stops moving, she crashes and gets stuck. When she can’t keep going in 5x17, she retreats to her bedroom for several days. When Cary bars her from entering the office in 5x20, she winds up with nothing to do, crying in her mother’s arms, and preventing herself from doing things she wants to do. In 6x21, once she decides she’s damaged goods, she experiences a crisis of confidence, sulking and hiding and wearing that silly baseball cap (and still trying to find things to do, like sanding that door). In 7x11, she blocks out (most of) the world when there’s nothing she can do except sit on a bus. If she keeps herself occupied—with household chores, a quest (like finding out what the voicemail in 5x16 said), calling a friend/family member (I’m thinking of Owen in 3x11 or hesitantly accepting Veronica’s lunch invite in 5x20), or perhaps with alcohol—then she can cope, or at least survive. But when she crashes, when it all comes tumbling down, when she can’t keep going, when chores aren’t enough to distract her… it’s devastating.

Another thing to note, and I’ll return to this point: note that the location of Florrick/Quinn within Alicia’s apartment makes it easy for Alicia to move from workspace to homespace.

“Would you like to talk?” Lucca ventures. “I don’t know anymore,” Alicia answers. “Do you want me to talk?” Lucca tries.

But Alicia’s ready to talk. “I was in love,” she begins, for the first time applying the word to her relationship with Will. That’s significant. I believe Alicia loved Will. I also believe “love” is a word without a fixed definition, and that love isn’t all that matters when making decisions, and that Alicia claiming this retroactively is about the ideal Will represented as much as it’s about the relationship they had. I’m not cynical (or stubborn) enough to believe that what was between Alicia and Will was just sex, even if I believe that Alicia/Will almost definitely never would have been able to get beyond that point and probably wouldn’t have lasted if they had. I am, however, suspicious of this context for a declaration of love enough to doubt that it has much bearing on what Alicia/Will was in reality. Alicia wants to claim Will as her true love, in the most fairytale ending sense of the word—it’s a simple, easy, appealing fiction that legitimizes her grief. She wants to claim Will as her true love to explain why she’s as upset as she is about the voicemail, his death, her choices, and life in general. BUT she also feels, and on some level has always felt, that Will was someone she wanted to be around, and that’s love, too. He supported her, respected her, appreciated her, loved her, made her feel good. That’s immensely powerful. She loves him, she loved him. She idealizes him, she idealized him.

This will never, ever be clear cut. Though Alicia here, and viewers a lot of the time, wants to believe it’s simple—six words: I was in love. He died.— it’s not. Alicia’s love for Will is/was malleable and constantly evolving. It was clouded by her emotions about the scandal, which caused her, by her own admission (6x18), to stop believing in love. It was complicated by her other obligations and wants, not to mention the expectations placed on her (by herself, by society) and the realities of her situation (as Peter Florrick’s wife, as Will’s employee, as a former stay-at-home-mom with a tenuous position in the labor force). Only when viewing it retrospectively and emotionally, with the missing voicemail standing in for the possibility of another clearly defined path she could’ve chosen, does it seem simple. And oh, does it seem simple! She was in love. He died.

“I found out that he left me a message that he loved me, but I didn’t get it,” Alicia continues. (So did 2x08 happen or no? I can buy that the word “love” is something more than “passionate message” so not a huge concern.) “Now I’m sick to death of…” she searches for the right word. “Everything.”

Here’s where my biggest concern about this scene comes in. This breakdown is not about Will or the voicemail. It’s catalyzed by it. It’s most immediately about it. It stems out of her grief. This is all true. But it’s not just the voicemail. Alicia has made six and a half years’ worth of choices that led her to this point. The voicemail is a handy device for envisioning another life; it’s not the only moment she could’ve changed her life. She could’ve not turned back in 1x19. She could’ve phoned him in 1x23. She could’ve pushed further in 2x14. She could’ve, at any moment, initiated something. She could’ve let the affair proceed in season three. She could’ve done something other than say, “Oh! I accidentally tell my mother-in-law I love her all the time; no worries!” when Will slipped and said those three little words to her. She could’ve opened up to Will, even just a little bit. She could’ve chosen him in season four. She could’ve talked to him instead of leaving. She could have, she could have, she could have. It would’ve been difficult, but she could have. The voicemail was not her one chance.

And it goes beyond Will, because the other side of this is that she stayed married to Peter. Regardless of Will, or voicemails, or love, she could’ve chosen to divorce. If she wasn’t happy in 1x23 and would’ve been willing to run off with Will, then you know what she had the choice to do? Leave Peter for herself. She could’ve refused to play Good Wife. She could’ve gone back to using her maiden name. She could have maintained more distance than she did.

And it goes beyond her love life! She could’ve chosen a different career path. She could’ve chosen a different lifestyle. She could’ve moved to a new city. She could’ve made different decisions in the workplace, like going to drinks with the other associates when invited rather than isolating herself. She could’ve reached out and made friends, could’ve phoned someone who maybe would’ve helped her or provided a shoulder to cry on even if they were too hesitant to phone her first. She could’ve forgiven Kalinda. She could’ve taken Canning’s job offers in seasons 3 and 4 instead of poaching clients. She could’ve decided not to run for SA. She could’ve continued to oppose Peter’s presidential run. There are so many things she chose without realizing she was making a choice, so many things could’ve done that she chose not to do. I don’t mean to say that she chose wrong. I don’t think there are right choices and wrong choices. No outcome is certain. There are better choices and worse choices, and steps to take to achieve a goal, but if the goal is always shifting, how do you know which choices to make? Alicia valued stability and independence and self-protection; now she believes she should have valued love.  

Unfortunately, one of the costs of stability and independence as a goal is that you can end up… isolated. And Alicia—friendless Alicia, who values her own space but also feels the need to be around others at times—has ended up isolated, as a result of the choices she’s made. I don’t know if all of this is crossing Alicia’s mind as she thinks about the voicemail. It’s probably not, since she’s likely rewriting those choices as things she had to do to survive (they weren’t). But she isn’t in this mental state or this position in life or haunted by this looming sense of aloneness just because Eli deleted a voicemail and she never got to be in a relationship with Will. She’s crashing because of that, but she’s been overdue for a crash for years.

Ok, none of that was my criticism of the scene. That’s just my interpretation. My criticism is that the scene doesn’t make this apparent enough. I can’t read this scene as a reaction to the voicemail and what-if of Will Gardner alone. That’s too easy, and it would sit strangely with me if Alicia got to this point over just that. (I don’t mean to downplay the trauma of grief/finding out the voicemail was deleted—it’s serious. I do mean to say that Alicia’s resilient, and for her to show cracks like this feels more like everything caught up with someone who was already broken than that someone who was doing just fine was suddenly devastated.) The scene lets that interpretation—the simple one—stand, and perhaps even leads viewers to buy into it. I wish it didn’t. It makes it feel like this pivotal moment in Alicia’s journey is about thing that happened a few episodes ago and a romance plot that has no potential for the future. To my mind, this breakdown is more than that: it’s the culmination of every single one of Alicia’s decisions since the start of the series, probably dating back even further. I wish that were clearer. (Or, alternatively, I hope that I’m right.)

Then Alicia beings to rattle off a list of things that she’s tired of, specifically: “This apartment. This laundry. The fact that things get dirty. The law. Just standing here.” Uh oh.

Remember how I said I wanted to talk about Alicia’s apartment more? She’ll mention it again, too, but I want to go somewhere else with that line, so I’ll say this here: Alicia’s whole life is now in her apartment. It is both her home and her workplace. She’s insisted on a rigid separation between home and work… until now. Her clients knock on her door and stand steps away from her bedroom. Her business partners walk through her living room every day. Any private space she has—like her bedroom—is under threat, because it’s so close to public space. (In season 1, when Peter was on house arrest, Alicia would always close her door so she’d have one space left to herself. She had that space, but she was also very conscious that she only had that space. This is similar.) She can no longer view her apartment as a refuge; it’s part of the problem. She spends too much time there but she has nowhere else to go.

The fact that things get dirty. She’s sick of repetition. She cleans something. It gets dirty. She cleans it again. It gets dirty again. Why even clean it? It’s just going to get dirty. Everything’s just going to get dirty. Nothing is immune from this. It’s frustrating.

The law. Now, this is an interesting one, because it ties back in to where she was in late season five, wondering if she’d chosen the right career. She ran for SA because, in part, it was a new way to apply the law. She lost, but started over, still working as a lawyer. (By the looks of it, she will remain a lawyer after this.) What’s sickening about it? Is it still sickening? Is this a momentary loss of interest? Is this disillusionment, defeat, or just a need for a new perspective?

Just standing here. Aaaaand this is where the breakdown starts to get very, very troubling. It turns into a cry for help, almost into a threat, almost like she’s saying, “I don’t want to be standing here (or anywhere).” She no longer sees the point. The law will bite her in the ass; her clothes will be cleaned to get dirty; her apartment won’t provide her comfort.

“Sometimes, I swear, I just want to go into my bedroom, pull the covers over my head, and never do anything ever again,” Alicia continues, slamming the dryer shut. The visual of Alicia doing just this in 5x17 pops into my mind, and I want to cry. Her anger mixed with exasperation as she says this also makes me want to cry.

Lucca moves forward, preparing to intervene but waiting for Alicia to finish.

“I’m drinking like I never have before,” Alicia launches into the next part of her monologue. Yes. She is. And you know what’s interesting about this? Since the voicemail reveal, we’ve seen her with exactly one drink, the one with the canted angle a few scenes ago. The “drinking like I never have before” thing? Yeah, that started in 7x06, when Alicia switched from wine to margaritas. This goes beyond the voicemail. Alicia’s been happy this season, but there’s been an undercurrent of sadness and loneliness since she’s been happy professionally but not personally. Strangely, I actually like something Julianna said about this, basically that Alicia drinking is not a problem, but Alicia drinking alone is.

“And all I want to do is have another one. And then everything just gets swallowed up by… more disgust.” Oh, Alicia. :(

“I’m not built to be an unhappy person,” Alicia explains. “I like laughing.” I think this is where I started sobbing while watching. We’ve never seen Alicia as a happy person. Since the series began, so since the scandal, we’ve only gotten glimpses of happy Alicia. More often, she’s guarded, removed, just getting by, or content with her sadness. I don’t know if anyone is built to be an unhappy person, or if that’s even a thing that’s possible, but it feels like Alicia’s saying that there’s this other version of her that’s not constantly unhappy, a version of her that’s relaxed and quick to laughter and able to sustain a good mood for more than a moment here and there. Alicia has had moments of happiness—many of them—in the six and a half years this show’s been on the air. But then unhappiness sets back in. Not just the normal fluctuations of life or a calm stability, but unhappiness (and perhaps anxiety). There are stretches of time (early season 4, some of early season 5 when she’s away from the fighting) and episodes where she’s comparatively happy, but unhappiness lurks around the corner even at those times. There’s always something that’s about to cause more tension (usually it’s a question about the state of her marriage, which this monologue somewhat frustratingly doesn’t address.)

I said in my 7x07 recap that the episode gave me some insight into what Alicia as a happy, fun person could look like. Dancing on bars. Having company over for dinner and enjoying it. Doing the work she wants to do because she wants to do it. Having sex. Communicating clearly. But 7x07 is also an episode where Alicia has to perform. Peter isn’t really moving back into the apartment; sleeping together when things are clicking doesn’t fix larger problems. The dinner party for Grace’s birthday is a sham—Grace’s birthday is in March, not November.

I don’t know if one can be a “happy person” or “always happy” or “have a happy life.” Trying to have a life that’s always happy may be as futile as trying to have control over every single thing in life. Alicia’s declared life goal is probably not realistic, but that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t strive to achieve it. Being perfectly in control and always happy? That’s probably not going to happen for Alicia. Being in a position to make decisions about her future while not being unhappy all the time? That is an attainable goal. Never-ending sunshine, rainbows, and God-like powers? Nah—Alicia will never have that. Not wanting to curl up in a ball and die and being secure, powerful, and confident enough to pursue the things you want? Very possible.

“I laugh like a banshee at videos on YouTube, and then I just sit here, alone, in this stupid little apartment, wondering what the hell happened to my life,” Alicia reads from my diary. Sorry, I meant, Alicia says. I can’t write about this breakdown without acknowledging that it hit home for me. I’ve always related to Alicia—if not the Alicia we see now, the person the woman we know now probably was when she was my age. I see my thought processes in hers, my views (well, except the pure meritocracy thing, yikes) in hers, my personality in hers. Every single fucking word of the sentence I just quoted sounds like my life, and to hear a line that resonates that much coming out of the mouth of a character I already related to just wrecks me. Fortunately, I haven’t experienced a loss the way Alicia has. I haven’t made (or, as the case may be, not made) life-altering decisions the way Alicia has. And I haven’t been the victim of any voicemail deletion. But I very much have been, and currently am in, a place where I question the choices I’ve made—and that’s the larger theme of Alicia’s breakdown.

Um. Anyway. Alicia turns to something I can’t relate to next: motherhood. “Was it all about having two kids who I don’t even know if I like anymore?” I wrote about this line already so I won’t say much more here. The tl;dr version of what I just linked to is this: Alicia loves her children, and probably likes them a lot, too. But in reflecting on her life, it’s easy for her to wonder if she loves her kids because of who they are, or if she loves them because she feels obligated to without really liking them at all.

How much did Alicia give up for her children? I don’t know. I don’t think it’s possible to quantify that. For Alicia, who knows what it feels like to have a parent not like you or be there for you, a large part of her own happiness is dependent on the happiness of her children. It’s both selfless and selfish when she “sacrifices” for them, to the point where it seems absurd to even talk about selflessness and selfishness in this context. If Alicia had put herself first, ignored the kids, and run off with Will—and this is assuming that that’s actually what Alicia wanted, but Lord knows I don’t need to get into yet another tangent about whether or not Will would’ve been able to be a good romantic partner for Alicia and vice versa—I don’t think she would’ve been happy. But, again, it’s the easiest thing in the world to look back (especially when she’s used to interacting with more self-sufficient adult children) and see clear-cut choices. When she chose to end things with Will in 3x10, for example, a lot of people blamed Grace and said Alicia only ended it with Will because she thought she had to, for the sake of her children. I’ve never believed that to be the case—situations like this are always more complicated than the most obvious answer. That said, there’s no reason that Alicia can’t look back now on that decision, or on other decisions, and think, “I had him. Why didn’t I put myself first and pursue that? Why did I let myself end it?” In retrospect it seems so simple. In reality it wasn’t.

“… and just shoving them off to be someone important?” The kids are growing up, leaving the nest, destined for greatness (they’re Florricks, after all). It feels so impersonal, like a pipeline. It sounds to me like Alicia’s wondering if she got on a path where you have kids, raise them, and send them away, spending all your time and energy on them just so they can leave and become people you don’t even want to be around. Why did she buy into that?! She could’ve had love and happiness! Why did she put so much into people who are just going to leave and maybe even disappoint her?!

Again, Alicia’s being extreme; I don’t think she believes all or any of this to be true. I think it’s more accurate to say that when she’s spiraling and wondering about the meaning of life, everything seems pointless.

“SERIOUSLY, WAS THAT THE POINT?! I just, I, I hurt,” Alicia sobs, repeating what she told Marissa at the end of 7x12. “And I, I, I… I want it over! I just want it to end. I just… I was loved. And it’s over, over. So why am I doing this?!”

All I can make of that is that Alicia’s in unbearable pain. She’s going from point to point and topic to topic and crying and stuttering and saying things that are completely incoherent. She’s broken, beyond the point where she alone can repair herself.

Luckily, Lucca steps up, embracing Alicia.

But before I switch gears to Lucca… Alicia should really, really go see a therapist. Friends are great for helping the healing process. Friends, or at least Alicia’s friends, are not credentialed mental health professionals. Regardless of what Alicia’s suffering from, she would benefit from therapy. I don’t know if Alicia has depression. I’m not qualified to diagnose that. I do know that this breakdown is a sign that things are not fine, and that while friends can alleviate some of the pain and make Alicia feel better, and while Alicia seems to be capable of changing her behavior… therapy sessions would give her a safe space and a routine (Alicia likes structure) for working through her problems.

Lucca hugs Alicia tightly and lets her cry. You know, or at least, I know, the scene’s good when I can feel the comfort Lucca’s giving Alicia just by watching. Lucca looks moved by Alicia’s words, and she steps up. She doesn’t have to. She could interrupt Alicia and tell her to stop. She could act bitter about the workplace quibble they’re in the middle of. She could be dismissive. She could say, “Wow, Alicia, I’m really sorry. But I should be going now…” She could give Alicia a quick hug and then leave. She doesn’t. She holds her. Lucca volunteers as much of her time as it’ll take to get Alicia through this moment. Regardless of whether or not Lucca cares for Alicia as a person—and I believe that Lucca does care a lot, which I’ll get to in a minute—this is the exact right thing to do (or, I should say, the exact thing I would want someone to do if I were in Alicia’s shoes—I want to try to avoid generalizing because these are things everyone reacts to differently) when someone is that broken and you want to help. Perhaps my favorite thing about this gesture on Lucca’s behalf is that it avoids making Lucca seem like she exists just to support Alicia. It makes her seem like a compassionate, knowledgeable person who will help in a crisis and knows what to do, not just an angel who popped up to save Alicia. Lucca stepping up in this way tells me a lot about Lucca. That’s in the writing, the staging (this scene allows silence to rest and events to play out over time), and especially in Cush Jumbo’s acting. I don’t think I’ve raved enough about how fantastic she is in this role. This is a scene that is, perhaps, a turning point six years in the making for Alicia, the star of the show and my favorite character of all time, and yet Cush manages to establish Lucca, a supporting player we’ve known for 13 episodes, as Alicia’s equal here, in my eyes. For a scene like this to work, it has to be absolutely evident that one character is not above the other (even if Alicia, of course, matters more to Alicia’s story than Lucca ever can).

“Alicia… you are here because I need you here,” Lucca informs Alicia. Yes. Yes. Yes. Is it true? It’s an exaggeration. Would Lucca ever say that under different circumstances? Probably not. But it’s not untrue—it comes from someone who cares-- and it gives Alicia a purpose. Alicia is feeling aimless, and Lucca slides in not with platitudes but with a reason for Alicia to keep going. Three episodes ago, Lucca was saying, “I don't expect anything of you, and you don't expect anything of me.” Now she’s saying, “I need you to keep living for me.” It means a lot to me that Lucca knows to open her response to Alicia with this, rather than with questions or condolences.

Then it’s Lucca’s turn to monologue. Still hugging Alicia, she shares (so Alicia isn’t the only one talking about her feelings), “I don’t like people. But I like you. I don’t even think I like my brother.” Alicia laughs at that, and I wonder if it makes her feel better about how she’s felt towards her kids. “He bothers me,” Lucca continues.

“I have no friends,” she confesses. “I’m 30 years old and I don’t have a single friend.” That’s a partial truth, but a revealing one. Lucca’s very friendly, and I find it hard to believe that she doesn’t have friends (in the sense of people to call up on a Friday night, though Lucca seems totally chill with just going out by herself), but I find it easy to believe that she doesn’t have close friends. This monologue gives us a lot of information about Lucca and how she sees herself and what in her life causes her stress. She is in a very different place than Alicia. Her career’s just getting off the ground, she’s 30 years old (her age doesn’t make it into this monologue by mistake) and anxious about the future and what she’s made of her life. She, too, struggles with loneliness and uncertainty, and she conveys the universality of not knowing what the fuck you’re doing (Ruth said this, too, more directly, in 7x11) without being condescending or trying to compare pain.

“But I want to be your friend,” Lucca states, tying her monologue back into the crisis Alicia’s in the middle of. “I mean, do you have a ring or something? I’ll commit.” Alicia laughs. “Because that’s the one thing you can choose. Me. Here. Wanting to be your friend. Everything else is just handed to you. All you have to do is say, ‘I’m willing.’” God, this is perfect. Lucca’s right. Alicia can’t choose if Jeffrey Grant is going to steal a gun in court and kill Will, or if Peter’s political enemies are going to come after him, or if R.D. is going to tell Diane to kick her out. But she can choose what relationships she puts time and effort into, and the company that she keeps.

The hug finally ends, and Alicia wipes her tears and laughs a bit. Lucca won’t let her move on without affirming their friendship. “No, I’m serious,” she says. “You have to say it.” Alicia laughs more, at the absurdity of the situation, at how close to the edge she got (she didn’t make any clear threats, but her language in that breakdown was giving off all sorts of warning signs that she might attempt suicide), at the relief Lucca brought her. “I’m willing,” she affirms. YES. I’m glad Lucca made her say it. Again, I think this is exactly what needs to happen in a situation like this. It may sound silly to state a friendship in this way, but it’s very important to get Alicia to make that promise. It’s easy to ignore kind words; harder to ignore a commitment you’ve made. Saying, “I’m willing” isn’t going to save Alicia or heal her completely. But it’s going to help get her on the right track.

Then Lucca asks if Alicia has any guns in the apartment, and holy shit did the promo department take that out of context. (I admire the restraint of the promo department this week, strangely enough. Usually, they just present everything at face value. This week, they withheld the context of a very dramatic-sounding line and not one but TWO Alicia/Sparky kisses. Don’t know what I’m talking about? Track down the promo for 2x23. And then laugh.)

Alicia laughs at that, though Lucca’s not joking. She doesn’t laugh because it’s funny, but rather because she’s starting to feel better. When a storm is over, is it happiness, or just relief? In this case, I’d say it’s relief (and that’s why she laughs—because she’s relieved). She’s a long way from being happy, but the (worst of the) storm is over.

On that note, if what I was saying about being happy vs not-unhappy wasn’t clear before, I think Alicia’s old happiness/relief line makes it clearer. For most of the show, she’s been relieved after a storm, resting, waiting, preparing for the next one. That’s not the same as happiness, but it sure can feel like it.

(I should note that the happiness/relief line comes from 2x18, before Alicia learns of Kalinda and Peter’s one night stand, and it’s in a scene where Kalinda’s asking Alicia about her satisfaction with life in general. That’s her answer. Telling, no?)

After Alicia says she doesn’t have any guns, Lucca says, “Good. ‘Cause you scared me there for a minute,” and Alicia leans in for another hug. Alicia doesn’t tend to be a touchy-feely person, so it always seems meaningful to me when she seeks out physical contact (of the non-sexual variety). It either indicates that she really likes someone (Marissa gets hugs; she hugs Cary in 6x02 (and 6x10) and he mentions that they’ve never really hugged before) or that she really needs support (3x10, 5x16, here).

Then Alicia shifts back to the case, still hugging Lucca (work and personal life, blurred; work partners and friends): Lucca’s going to have to testify, and she knows she’ll need another lawyer. “Who?” Alicia asks, and the show gives us the answer:

“Cary Agos, Your Honor, representing Alicia Florrick in this matter,” Cary says, and it’s time for a commercial break.

That’s probably one of my all-time favorite act breaks. It’s the first time Cary appears in the episode. It teases what’s going to happen next without being melodramatic. It shifts from a very emotional, personal scene, to the workplace naturally. And it underlines that Alicia has a network of people who care about her, if only she’s willing to activate it. Lucca is now her friend; Cary never stopped being her friend. It is not at all to Cary’s benefit to represent her, but he’ll do it, because she’s a friend, because she was there for him when he was in jail. Alicia has been on friendly terms with Cary more often than not in season 7, but she’s also been hostile and accusatory towards him (see: last episode), and let their friendship lapse. If enough time passes and she continues down that road, Cary will move on. (It’s not hard to see how all of Alicia’s other friendships have faded away, is it? She doesn’t put in effort, and everyone moves on with their life. She waits for others to reach out to her; they think she’s stopped caring; she winds up friendless.)

(I HAVE FRIENDS, I DEFINITELY HAVE FRIENDS. NO ONE CAN SAY THAT I DO NOT HAVE FRIENDS. I HAVE FRIENDS, I DEFINITELY HAVE FRIENDS, FRIENDS FRIENDS FRIENDLY FRIENDS, I HAVE ALL THE FRIENDS.) (Go watch Crazy Ex-Girlfriend.)

Court stuff happens. Alicia looks really bad—and this time I don’t mean the wig. (Or anything about her physical appearance, to be clear.) (The wig still should be burned tho.)

Things are looking up! There are audio recordings of Schakowsky being a dick! 

Alicia stops Jason as he’s leaving. “I wasn’t myself earlier,” she begins. “Things were swirling around in my head.” “And now they’re not?” Jason enquires. “Well, now they’re in… perspective,” Alicia answers. Yes. They haven’t stopped swirling, but Lucca helped her get some much needed distance from her emotions. “Good. Perspective is good,” Jason sparks. “I just, I didn’t want you to think that…” Alicia frets.

Jason stops her. “Here’s the thing, Alicia. Whenever you worry about what I might be thinking, or you worry that I’m upset about what you’re thinking, just know that… I’m fine.” Alicia relaxes. “Even when I’m not fine, I’m really fine,” he continues. Alicia nods. Jason turns to leave, and Alicia’s apprehension returns. There’s more she wanted to say, more she wanted to do.

She heads inside the apartment, and almost closes the door. But she doesn’t shut it. She thinks for a moment, then runs out into the hallway, and stops the elevator.

She was going to do what she usually does: let things stand, let things fester, let situations reach their breaking point. Sit back, wait. Alicia doesn’t always do this, to be fair, and she almost never does this in her professional life (she used to—Kalinda calls her out on it in 1x15). But she does it often enough. And I don’t just mean the big things. I mean small things, like what I was just saying about not reaching out to Cary more, too. Alicia is not a bold risktaker (though she can be). She is not a natural at maintaining and creating connections. As I said above, Alicia is where she is largely because of the choices she made. A lot of those choices involved waiting something out or not taking more action. She’s not about to make that mistake again.

So she stops the elevator door, of course an elevator door, grabs Jason, and passionately kisses him. This kiss is in an elevator, so it’s almost impossible not to compare it to Alicia’s elevator makeout sesh with Will. Even after a few drinks, she’s nervous, to the point where Will realizes the best way to make a move is to hold her hand first and go slow. This kiss is not like that. Alicia knows what she wants, and goes for it. She hesitates, in private, and pushes through that hesitation all on her own. She initiates.

“Are you still fine?” she says to Jason when she pulls (slightly) away. “Yeah,” he replies, staying close. She walks away, pleased with herself, and Jason smiles as the elevator door closes. (Also worth nothing, briefly, that this is different than the kiss with Elfman, who is in the right place at the right time. I don’t think Alicia kisses Jason because she thinks he’s a convenient hottie whom she trusts (though he is that). I think she kisses Jason because she wants to kiss Jason.)

The jury’s still out on Alicia/Jason for me. I believe that the writers have laid the groundwork for Jason as someone Alicia’s interested on both a physical and intellectual level, perhaps not well enough for the latter (but it’s still there, and Julianna has been, for her part, hyping it since before day one). It’s not very hard to sell me on the idea of Alicia being attracted to a man and wanting to make a move. The hard sell will be what the Alicia/Jason relationship looks like by May 8th, and, if it looks like something serious (I won’t make predictions!), if it makes sense that they got there in this timeframe. But I’ll reserve judgment on that until I see it.

Court stuff happens. I love court scenes. They give me a lot of time to stare at Alicia’s wig and think of new possible ways to dispose of it. Court goes poorly.

Court stuff happens for the Diane case that’s still a thing. At least it’s a reprieve from the bad wig. Diane wins! (I can’t remember if the win sticks or not.)

Now it’s Lucca’s turn to testify (in the real case), so things get more interesting. Lucca is explaining the learning curve that bond court requires, and how Alicia’s learning curve wasn’t about learning to be a lawyer, it was about learning how to deal with Schakowsky, who called her Marie Antoinette.

Bernie points out that Alicia had other obligations, like Peter’s campaign (oh! Peter exists!). One day, Bernie says, she even missed a whole morning in bond court! I wasn’t aware they had set days they had to be there or that it was possible to miss a whole morning. I thought the bar attorneys could set their own schedules and work as much or as little as they pleased. Apparently she missed a whole morning in bond court to be on Mama’s Homespun Cooking. I love it when little threads come back! I still don’t understand how bond court works!

Bernie asks Lucca about the time she had to leave bond court to go to probate court to cover for Alicia. I don’t think that’s quite what happened in 7x01, but the larger point is that the only reason anyone covering for anyone happened was that Bernie didn’t show up. This devolves into bickering. Not good.

Final question for Lucca: did she tell the other bar attorney, Don, that “you feel sorry for anyone who gets Alicia Florrick as an attorney?” (She’s malleable with a spine of cottage cheese, that one.) Alicia watches her friend carefully. “I did,” Lucca answers truthfully. “But I don’t believe that anymore. I wouldn’t be her law partner if I did.” Alicia smiles.

Alicia may have a friend and a new love interest, but she also has the same old money problems. They’re $18,000 in debt, a computer screen tells us. (Alicia in glasses alert!)

Someone interrupts by knocking on the door, and it’s Eli, who doesn’t even have time to say hello. He’s decided to change his approach from apologetic to confrontational. “You did end up with Will,” he pounces. “You act like I prevented the love affair of the ages, but you two did end up together and I did not keep you from doing that.” This is very true. It doesn’t make the effect of the deletion of the voicemail negligible—my theory is that the only reason Alicia and Will ended up together in the way they did was that Alicia didn’t realize how deep this went for Will; the voicemail would’ve put the relationship question on the table in a way the affair never did—but it does mean that Alicia and Will aren’t exactly the road not taken.

But. It’s still a choice Alicia never got to make. What happened next doesn’t matter, because anything COULD have happened. Alicia could’ve left Peter then and there and fallen in love with the dream guy who secretly had a plan; she could’ve never felt the stress of a campaign or the pain of finding out that Kalinda and Peter slept together. Change one small thing and everything afterwards could be different. Alicia’s clinging to that. That’s why she’s acting like Eli prevented the love affair of the ages. She’s also, understandably, mad about the lying and the invasion of privacy.

Also, Eli, if you recognize you didn’t prevent shit, why was it necessary for you to reveal this bit of information to Alicia anyway?

“Yes, I know, I erased it, and I’ve already apologized, and maybe you would’ve had another three months together, but that would’ve had no impact on what happened to Will, none. You can’t control fate. Just like I can’t tell if I walked under that tree and not this one, the branch wouldn’t break off and kill me,” Eli rambles. YOU CAN’T CONTROL YOUR FATE! People keep saying this to Alicia, and I agree, but I also think there has to be a balance between believing that every choice you made was the one choice that could’ve changed everything (and that you chose wrong) and that things just happen uncontrollably. And Eli isn’t quite right here. If Alicia and Will had gotten together three months before 2x23, it would’ve been under totally different circumstances (and also longer than three months), circumstances which could’ve led the relationship to play out very differently, or not at all. Alicia can’t control Jeffrey Grant shooting Will… but if the relationship had happened differently, which it would’ve if the voicemail hadn’t been deleted (no matter if it fizzled out or became something wonderful), Will might not’ve died being mad at the world. It’s dangerous to play with these what-if scenarios, because there are so many variables, but I think it’s pretty safe to say that there are things one has control over and things one doesn’t have control over. I think Eli’s conflating the two, even as he makes a great point.

This could just be my personal bias showing, but I tend to agree with Lucca’s approach (you can’t control the world but you can control your decision to be friends with me) more than Eli and Ruth’s (no matter what you do you’ll end up in the same place).

“And one more thing,” Eli adds. “It was hard for me to apologize. I never do that. And I never confess to anything. But I did to you. Because I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve never been more sorry about anything in my life.” I could rag on Eli here, but it’s clear this has affected him, and if Alicia can forgive him, I can, too.

Alicia smiles softly at him, and responds simply: “Okay, Eli. You’re forgiven.” It’s what he needed to hear. But wow—Alicia—ALICIA FLORRICK!!!—is forgiving someone who betrayed her. That doesn’t happen. She still hasn’t forgiven Peter fully for the pain he caused (nor does she need to!). It took her years and Kalinda skipping town to even begin to consider forgiving her (we are ignoring the end of season three, where Alicia seems to start to forgive K, because the writers did, not that I’m bitter or anything). Now, it takes Alicia only three episodes and a realization that it’s not good to shut out the people that care about you most to forgive. Will things be peachy between Alicia and Eli now? Probably not. But she’s able to acknowledge that he cares about her and not hold that against him, even though he did something that broke her.

She doesn’t invite Eli in to chat or anything—she just says she’ll talk to him later and closes the door with a smile—but from Alicia, that means everything.

Well, shit. Alicia and Lucca are on the hook for $1.5 million. “You’re not well liked, Alicia,” Bernie notes. BUT I THOUGHT SHE WAS THE MOST WELL LIKED POTENTIAL POLITICIAN EVER! “People think you’re rich. You’re the wife of the governor, and the loser in the presidential primary. He’s not well-liked, either.”

Alicia starts laughing after Bernie leaves. “You’ve lost it, haven’t you?” Lucca asks. “Oh, yes, I have,” Alicia replies. Jason arrives, Lucca and Alicia exposition the situation they’re in, and Lucca heads home. She tells Jason he should stay to “think things through” with Alicia. By which Lucca means, “talk to Alicia about your relationship.”

“Are you still fine?” Alicia asks after Lucca leaves. “Yeah,” Jason replies. “So, a funny thing happened yesterday…” “In the elevator?” “Yeah. No. Before that. I got offered a job at Lockhart/Agos. I said no, but they offered a lot of money.” “And then you said yes?” “No,” Jason explains, “Because I didn’t want to make it seem like it was about us yesterday.” He moves closer as he says this.

(What is that painting Alicia has of people sitting on chairs in an auditorium?)

Alicia advises him to do what’s best for him and take the higher paying job. Jason responds by leaning in for a kiss. And then they kiss. And kiss. And kiss. It’s a slow, gentle kiss, not really what we’re used to seeing on this show. And that makes it work for me (I can’t believe I just wrote that). It feels relaxing and comfortable. Of course, it also feels unsustainable. YOU’RE STILL MARRIED TO A PUBLIC FIGURE WHO ISN’T WELL LIKED AND PEOPLE ARE LOOKING TO DESTROY, ALICIA. DEAL WITH YOUR MARRIAGE, OR YOU ARE GOING TO END UP A MESS, EVEN IF JASON’S KISSES FEEL NICE RIGHT NOW!

The phone rings, and Alicia pulls herself (slightly) away to answer it. Cut to… Alicia joining Cary at a bar, a glass of wine waiting for her. (So she’s not done drinking. Just drinking alone. Hopefully.)

Oh, hey, Alicia knows about the homeowner’s association now. She mentions it when Cary asks if she’s looking for a new place of business.

“And we’re looking for new associates. Lost half of ‘em in a rebellion,” Cary suggests.

“Oh, God,” Alicia replies to the implied offer. “Would it be so bad to come back?” Cary asks. “As an associate?” Alicia clarifies. (How do you pronounce associates? Do you say “asso-she-ites” like Cary does, or “asso-see-ites” like Alicia does? I say it like Alicia.)

“You want me back as a partner? Diane would not want me back as a partner,” Alicia reasons. (She wouldn’t.) (Diane respects Alicia, but she’s still mistrusting of her over something or other, and Diane was never as friendly with Alicia as Cary was and is.)

“A junior partner,” Cary offers. Alicia laughs. “You guys fired me.” “No, we didn’t,” Cary defends. “That was Dipple.” Yeah, and who is the one that made retaining Dipple as a client top priority? That’d be your firm. Cary’s still responsible, as a name partner, for that decision. On a personal level, though, it is much easier to patch over tension like this (some of my partners voted that a client that kept the whole firm afloat was more important than you) than to patch over tension that goes deeper (I fired you because I didn’t want to associate with you).

Cary says LAL—which is suddenly very stable, I guess—can help Alicia out with the malpractice case settlement. “Come on, Alicia,” he pleads. “Come on home.”

And she laughs. I’ll take that as a yes.

So. Now Alicia—and presumably Lucca, because there’s not a chance in hell Alicia won’t fight for Lucca after Lucca literally saved her life— is headed back to LAL, after a whole season of talking about how happy she was not being in that environment. On the one hand, this plotline works seamlessly. The show works better when it’s coherent (the Diane stuff in 7x13 was astonishingly boring and disconnected). The writers plotted this well, showing Alicia and Lucca’s struggle and LAL’s need for more people. But. It also feels like they plotted it to end up here for story reasons, story reasons that wouldn’t necessarily be relevant if CBS hadn’t strung the Kings along with the threat of a season eight. Maybe this was always part of the game plan. But I believe the writers didn’t know until shortly before we did that season seven would really be the last one, and a season 8 with two separate firms wouldn’t have worked, so Alicia needed to find her way “home” by the end of season 7, just in case. Maybe I’m falling for a baseless conspiracy theory, but I can’t shake the sense that the writers wrote to this for reasons other than that it best fit Alicia’s story.

That said… I’m happy to see Alicia interacting with the other regulars, especially Cary, more often. And I think the way they got to this point makes as much sense as it possibly could have. Not only does Alicia end up needing to take an offer like Cary’s (she’s on the hook for $1.5 million dollars!) as a direct result of a stupid decision she made (taking on a sitting judge, really? I suppose sometimes when you get to control your life, you use that control to make really fucking pointless choices), but going back to LAL also ties into Alicia’s new commitment to friendships and repairing relationships. The control Alicia’s found in season 7 has come with a cost: she’s isolated herself. It didn’t have to go that way (there is no reason at all that going out on her own meant failing and becoming isolated. Running a successful small firm and being a functioning member of society is a pretty realistic goal!), but it did. Now, Alicia can give up some (a lot of?) that control in exchange for having more companions.

Does that sound like complete bullshit? I mean. It kind of is. As I said, this feels like something happening for plot reasons that the writers then built to using character motivations, even if they did a good job of covering their tracks. 

If there’s one thought this episode leaves me with, it’s, “We’ll have to see what happens next.” I’m pleased with almost everything 7x13 accomplishes, so long as it sticks and receives proper exploration. If the events of 7x13 don’t stick in a meaningful way (ESPECIALLY this going back to LAL thing, which I’m not even pleased with in the first place), then I’m going to be very disappointed that they happened.

I want to conclude by writing something a bit more personal than I usually do, something that I haven’t been able to shake since I watched the episode. Everything about this episode felt like a version of my life (if my life were interesting enough to be a TV show) and how I experience different feelings. I haven’t gone through anything even 1/100th as traumatic as Alicia has, but I struggle with the same types of feelings, moods, and behaviors, and I deal with them in much the same way. Watching this episode, I felt like I was watching what I’ve been going through recently playing out on screen. There will be days when I can’t make myself sit down and work on things, days where I find myself in tears and hiding under the covers, furious with myself, wondering what the hell I’m doing, yet refusing to just get up and work and relieve some of the stress. I’ll start feeling like I’m worthless, like I’ll never succeed (everyone else is smarter than I am; I don’t deserve anything), like I’ve made bad choices (should’ve gotten more involved with this, that, and the other my freshman year; should’ve made more of an effort). When I’m feeling like that, I write things in a diary, and when I’m feeling better, I read over my entries, and they scare me.  

But: I’ll spend a few days thinking I need to seek help for depression and anxiety, and then something small will happen and I’ll feel totally fine. Not elated or energetic or reckless, just fine. I’ll go from being a wreck over something (usually a large assignment for school) to getting a call from a friend, chatting a little, and then feeling much more upbeat about everything. And when I feel better, I perform better, which means I do things that are more productive, which means I have less time to wallow because I’m less isolated, and my anxiety levels drop. This past week I’ve barely felt any anxiety because I’ve been busy and going after the things that I want. My cousin was in town over the weekend so I had no downtime, then I had to work on a paper, job applications, homework, and a full course load, plus I had to stay on top of other responsibilities, plus the final season announcement, and I had three interviews. Being busy, taking steps to accomplish my goals, and spending time with people has made me feel a lot better. I don’t know if I’m depressed (I suspect I’m not) or if I have a diagnosable anxiety disorder (some of you are probably reading this right now and thinking, “If only my anxiety went away just like that!” and I’m very sorry if you find this upsetting; I’ve been told by a therapist I’m just “emotional” and not anxious, but that’s a whole other story that I don’t care to share with the Internet right now). I don’t know if Alicia is depressed or if she has an anxiety disorder—the show isn’t outright saying she is or she does, even as she gives off a lot of the symptoms. What I do know is that in watching Alicia struggle (and yes, I do acknowledge that Alicia has feelings of grief that I don’t, which complicate this a bit), break down, and then take deliberate steps to not make the same mistakes again after a friend reached out to her, I saw myself, and it meant a lot to me.

(Alicia should still go to therapy. Even if one of the steps she needs to take to feel better is to reach out to others, my unprofessional opinion is that Alicia would benefit from talking to a professional.)

[florrickandassociates]

TGW Thoughts: 7x12-- Tracks

My thoughts on 7x12 under the cut!

The hallway outside of Alicia’s apartment looks different when it opens Tracks. As it turns out, this is because it isn’t Alicia’s hallway at all: this is the sixth floor, and she’s on the ninth. The woman who lives in apartment 603 is, understandably, getting frustrated by Alicia’s home business: everyone keeps coming to her door to try to find Alicia.

She gets snappier the more people that knock on her door. There’s some problem with the elevator panel that I don’t quite understand, the neighbor informs top Florrick/Quinn client Bea Wilson. (I’m watching Gilmore Girls right now. This is confusing.)

Bea is happy to withhold information about the elevator mishap from another person searching for Alicia’s door—who happens to be Rowby, of Thicky Trick fame.

The first thing Rowby says to Alicia when he lands on the right door is “Oh, thank God, it’s you, what is up with the bitch downstairs?” Despite this, Alicia’s still happy to see a friendly old client. He gives her a hug.

Rowby needs more legal help. Unfortunately, Rowby has not covered another DJ Troy$e song (http://www.gettyimages.com/music/artists/91963-dj-troye). Now, he’s in legal trouble over a kids’ song he wrote for his new son (whom he must’ve adopted since that kid is much older than two). His label claims they own it, so he needs to take it down.

The song is really cute, and Alicia enjoys it. Awww, I love that Alicia smiles at things related to children. She did this in 7x02, too, and in 5x06 when Marilyn told her she was pregnant, and of course she does it around her own kids.

Alicia in glasses alert!

The doorbell interrupts Alicia and Rowby’s conversation. It’s Alicia’s neighbor from downstairs, Mrs. Dosek, and she’s dropping off packages. “I don’t mean to be rude, but this is a residential building, and you’re conducting business.” Alicia says she’ll put a sign up in the elevator. I still want to know how in the world all of these people can get to Alicia’s front door without her knowing they’ve entered the building. She’s the governor’s wife.

Mrs. Dosek also hands Alicia Grace’s report card. It’s open. She claims she thought it was addressed to her. Wait a sec, weren’t you just screaming at people to learn how to read…?

More importantly, Grace got 2 Bs and 3 Cs, which I am assuming are not typical grades for Grace (in 4x07 everything was “Good work!” and “A”), or for any Florrick, for that matter (Alicia was totally the cry-over-a-B+-type, amirite?). Grace is standing in the kitchen, visible behind Alicia, for this conversation, but we don’t get to see her as more than a blur. Hm. (I’d worry about Grace’s chances of getting into a good college, but she’s the governor’s daughter.)

Alicia’s very busy today! Now Cary’s at her door. He’s there for Rowby, who went over to Lockhart/Agos first; Cary referred the case to Alicia. But Rowby insisted on having both Cary and Alicia. (Ahhh, 5x11 memories. That episode is… fun, if you just sort of view it as a standalone and forgive that it takes a lot of emotions to extremes that it probably shouldn’t have at a moment it probably shouldn’t have.)

Bea is having lunch with Monica. How does Bea know Monica? Why would Bea know Monica? Did she offer to help her after watching the frustrated-with-LAL video? There’s a link I’m missing. And it can’t have been that she saw the LAL video, because she expresses surprise when Monica names LAL as the firm she’s working at—“Huh. I just left there a month ago!” Did I miss something????

Anyway, regardless of how Bea and Monica know each other, Monica is able to get crucial information out of Bea: she’s not thrilled with Florrick/Quinn and its lack of office space. Monica reports back to Diane and David Lee with this.

David says Diane has to apologize for arguing a pro-life position. Diane says she wasn’t. (She wasn’t. Just taking money from someone trying to.) “Diane, no one can understand what you were doing,” David says before instructing Diane to apologize. Sounds like Cary’s plotline from last week!

David Lee says something offensive and Monica tries to refrain from commenting. Someone stop David Lee.

Diane asks Monica to phone Bea; Monica leverages it—“it’s not really my account…” she says, hinting that she’d like it to be.

Eli visits Ruth in her office (his old office, his new office) one last time. “Our polling was off,” she defends herself. I’ll say. It was THAT far off, that much of an outlier, and you still bought it? Okay. Maybe all the polls were off. I don’t even… whatever. I’ll focus on the real Iowa polls now rather than worrying about a fictional race.

Wait no I can’t lay off of it because Ruth asks if it’s Eli’s responsibility that their polling was off so this either means that Eli controls all polls everywhere in Iowa or that Ruth wasn’t looking at any numbers other than her internals that highly differed from the rest.

“Your optimism was infectious,” Eli tells Ruth. Um. Is that how I was supposed to read this arc? Ruth being such an optimist she ignored all reality? Okay. For my own sake, and yours, I’m just gonna stop. No more political campaign nitpicking in this recap. Promise.

Ruth’s moving on to congressional races. Oh, Ruth, I liked you, even though I still don’t know how good or bad you were at your job. Wish you’d gotten more to do.

Ruth departs by setting up the arc for the remainder of the season (I mean, there’s gotta be a reason Elsbeth’s coming back, and it isn’t that we need to see more dancing clowns): someone, somewhere, will target Peter while he’s coming off of a humiliating loss.

“I wish… I had been better to you,” Eli apologizes. Thrilling stuff, that revenge arc.  And now it’s over. Oh no. I’m so sad. Wah.

This scene makes a nice conclusion to an awful, misguided arc that fizzled out. May the next arc be better.

Eli unpacks a box of things and finds a selfie of Alan and Julianna. Wow! It’s so weird that Alicia and Eli have identical twins in the world of the show, twins who also know each other and take silly pictures together, and that a photo of them made its way into a frame and on to Eli’s desk! At least it’s more convincing than the “Will and Kalinda are totes buddies” cast party pic used in 5x17?

Cut to Lucca, in the LAL conference room. “Who are you?” Rowby asks her, as though she’s the most fascinating, stunning person he’s ever seen. “I think I love you,” he tells her. And later “you are the most beautiful human being I have ever seen, like, in my life.”

The lawyer from 7x06 is back—Andrea Stevens. She remembers Lucca as having a “beautiful name” and comments on her hair.

Andrea adopted a girl from China last year. Did you know that? She really, really wants you to know that.

Monica gets Bea into the LAL offices… at the same time Alicia, Lucca, and Cary are working together on the Rowby case in the conference room. The glass walled conference room.  

Diane and David are angry that Cary has Alicia and Lucca in the conference room and tell him to get them out of the offices. That’s going to be hard, since this case is going to drag: now Rowby’s being sued for $3.1 million.

Alicia and Lucca talk over the case with Rowby later, at the Florrick/Quinn “offices,” and then Eli knocks on the door. He wants to talk about work, because he’s working as Peter’s Chief of Staff now (again). WAIT, WHAT? So they totally destroy the Peter/Eli friendship to introduce a revenge arc that goes nowhere, and then, it ends and bam we’re back to Peter trusting Eli to be his CoS… and this all happens off screen?! Eli’s material this season has been… scattered. And bad.

Alicia closes the door on him. Yep, still mad.

Mrs. Dosek shows up at the door next, and Grace answers. Mrs. Dosek hands her an eviction notice. Uh oh! Time for title credits!

If you thought we’d be rid of the first half of the season’s Eli arc without one final small-office joke, you were wrong! Marissa’s in Eli’s old office, joking around. “I don’t have time to play,” Eli tells her. “Wow, you’re sour,” she retorts, and he responds by proving to her that he does have time to play by pushing her on a rolling desk chair across the office. Heh.

“If you want the small office, you can take it,” Eli says when Marissa laments Eli going back to the bigger, less personal office. She jumps on that: she needs a job because she needs to “finance her art.” “What art?” Eli asks. “The art of living,” Marissa explains. Bwah!

Eli suggests that she ask Alicia. For once, he does this without any intention of scheming.

Court stuff happens.

Marissa goes to Alicia’s apartment, as Eli suggested. Grace answers the door. They talk a bit about Mrs. Dosek and the eviction threat, and Marissa gives Grace some pointers for dealing with the situation.

Marissa’s eating Alicia’s sugary cereal again. Don’t you want milk, Marissa? You were so enthusiastic about it last season.

Alicia gets home and is delighted to see Marissa! Marissa explains briefly that she was in San Francisco, but now she’s back and she needs a job.

(Alicia’s wig looks fucking terrible.)

Alicia doesn’t need to hire anyone at the moment—sorry, Marissa. Marissa accidentally makes the mistake of mentioning Eli, and Alicia’s entire demeanor changes. “Marissa, visit me because you want to, not because your dad wants you to,” Alicia lectures. Marissa doesn’t know what she’s taking about.

Court stuff happens. (Zzzzz, but I like the expert witness Alicia/Cary/Lucca put on the stand.)

This case is ridiculous—and the writers know it. It’s one of those cases where the case keeps changing, and the judge calls the lawyers out on it, as though the writers are saying, “Yeah, we know this is ridiculous. Just roll with it.”

At the top of the next act, Eli stares at the painting Courtney bought him for his office. Marissa interrupts to find out what the hell happened between him and Alicia.

“Alicia and I are having some… issues,” Eli says. “Are you sleeping with her?” Marissa asks, which leads Eli to flip out a little bit. Eli tells Marissa the truth about the voicemail.

When he says “someone who was in love with her,” Marissa knows he’s referring to Will. Eli seems surprised by this and wants to know how she knows this. “I have eyes,” she replies. Or, maybe, “I read through every bit of cringeworthy dirty-talk they sent each other over work email.” That would make more sense. But I suppose we’re forgetting about that scandal the same way the writers forgot by 6x18 that in 6x17 the emails were all, “I want to chain your tongue to my hips so I can have your delicious linguistics whenever I want!” and “my only purpose? To be a servant to your body.”

“God, it’s like a soap opera here when I’m gone,” Marissa says. Yeah. This does feel like a super soapy twist. I like it, but it still feels soapy.

Marissa decides to intervene. She hasn’t decided what she’s going to do yet, but she’ll do something.

Lucca and Rowby wind up in the elevator together. We all know what that means.

Lucca’s hesitant at first: is Rowby married? In a relationship? He admits he’s divorced; Lucca smiles (not at hearing that he’s divorced, but at his sincerity in telling her) aaaaaaand then they’re making out at a bar.

So. I guess that answers the Lucca/Cary question.

“I like artists,” Lucca confesses to Rowby. “But I lose interest in them real quick. You wanna go home?” She insists they go to her apartment, “just for an hour.” Elevators, bars, “just for an hour”… what does that sound like to you? (To me, it sounds like a more successful version of what Will and Alicia attempted in 2x23.)

Court stuff happens! Case dismissed! With fifteen minutes to go? Nah.

Lucca and Rowby then begin kissing in court. Okay then. Cary’s reaction isn’t shown, which I’ll take to mean that he and Lucca had fun that night (or maybe not so much fun, whatever, doesn’t matter) but didn’t get serious. Alicia makes a great, “WELL THAT’S HAPPENING. PLEASE GET ME OUT OF HERE” face.

Grace attends a homeowners’ meeting instead of Alicia. I wonder if Alicia even knows she’s at risk of being evicted? I understand Grace not wanting to tell Alicia about a situation that she can take care of, but it seems like, if Grace’s methods don’t work, Alicia will be in a lot of trouble. It’s also probably important information to hear that the neighbors are THIS unhappy.

Anyway. Grace’s strategy (borrowed from Marissa) works. GRACE IS AWESOME!

Lucca and Rowby are in bed together when she receives a text saying that he’s being sued for copyright infringement.

Court stuff happens!

Diane and David Lee meet with another client who left for Florrick/Quinn, and—shocker—they schedule the meeting for the exact same time that Alicia returns to the LAL conference room for a settlement talk.

Lucca and Rowby are running late because they need to make out in an elevator because they’re characters on The Good Wife. Lucca runs into the client—the one who Diane and David were meeting with—in the lobby. Uh oh.

Lucca and Alicia realize they’re losing all their new clients, and thus their chance at success. They think—understandably—that Cary’s in on this. (He’s not, but he does know what’s going on.)

“Go to hell,” Lucca tells Cary when they see each other in court. Uh oh!

Rowby loses the copyright infringement case.

Alicia, meanwhile, calls clients. They’ve lost Bea. Grace walks in and offers to help—she’s done with all her homework.

“Okay, then we should talk,” Alicia says. “Uh oh. Is it one of those talks?” Grace frets. “Yes, I’m afraid it is,” Alicia says, sitting down in one of the visitor chairs in her office.

“You know how much I love you, right? And how much I appreciate everything you’re doing here—for the firm, for me?” Alicia starts. “Mom, if it’s about my grades, I can bring them up, I promise you,” Grace protests.

“You need to stop working at Florrick/Quinn,” Alicia states. “You’re firing me?” Grace asks. “Yes, I am,” Alicia confirms.

“But that’s not fair! I’ve been doing such a good job,” Grace exclaims. “Yes, you have. You have been doing an amazing job. Too amazing, in fact,” Alicia explains warmly. “So you’re firing me for doing too good a job? That has to be illegal,” Grace replies.

“Grace, you need to start focusing on your future, not mine,” Alicia tells her. I love this idea. It makes a lot of sense to me that Grace would be overly eager to jump in and give her all to someone else’s passion project (that’s what she usually does). She’s matured a lot through this experience and gained invaluable skills, but Alicia’s right to shut this down the moment it starts taking a toll on her daughter. Grace shouldn’t build her life around her mom’s business, and Alicia shouldn’t let her.

My only complaint about this lovely scene is that we should’ve seen hints earlier suggesting that Grace wasn’t managing her time well. We see so little of the everyday on this show it’s never possible to assess when a lack of screentime means that something is actually not happening for the characters. Did we never see Grace at school or with friends this year because they mattered so little to her, or did we never see scenes like this because they mattered so little to the show? This episode contains the first mention all season of school for Grace. But it would’ve taken only a second to show Grace closing a math textbook on an incomplete homework assignment before opening up work for Florrick/Quinn, abandoning an essay draft when Alicia phones with a request, or telling a friend she can’t hang out because she has to work. If the absence of something is going to be problematic later on, then that absence needs to be noted and problematized early on.

“Mom, you need me,” Grace begs. “Yes, as a daughter, I so, so do. But as a mother, as your mother, I need to be taking care of you, not the reverse. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Alicia explains. “I understand. You want me to butt out of your life,” Grace misinterprets. “No, my business,” Alicia clarifies, giving Grace a hug.

“Mom, you can’t fire me and hug me at the same time,” Grace notes. “Oh, yes I can,” Alicia laughs. SO CUTE. SO SWEET. I hope Grace understands once she gets over the shock and sadness. Alicia’s actually saying that Grace is MORE important to her than her firm is—she’d rather lose a great employee than see her daughter sacrifice too much of herself.

(This also sets up a nice way to potentially move Marissa into the secretary role, if the show decides to go there. I’d be up for that! Marissa needs a job, can work full time, and we already know she works well as a semi-regular character in Alicia’s world. I don’t know if this is where they’re headed, but they seem to be leaving that road open.)

Rowby plays Lucca a song he wrote for her. She loves it, but then she turns to leave. “Where are you going?” Rowby asks. “Back to real life,” Lucca informs him. “What was this?” he quietly says after she leaves. I know! I know! It was an exceptional moment!

(Since Lucca’s single and isn’t crushing on her boss, she really can have this kind of a hookup. As long as she wants to, there’s no reason for her not to. It doesn’t have to have meaning. It can just be fun.) (I don’t know why I’m going for this comparison. I blame the elevators.)

“So, you screwed us,” Alicia says when she opens the door for Cary. “You mean, did we try to poach the clients you poached from us?” Cary counters. Fair point! “Did you?” “Yes.” “Great. Congratulations.” But! The clients said no. To both of them, it turns out.

The clients want Alicia and Lucca as their lawyers, but they want LAL’s infrastructure. “Come back to Lockhart/Agos,” Cary offers. HA. RIGHT.

“No,” Alicia says after an incredulous stare. “Why not?” “You fired me,” Alicia reminds him. “And I’ve never worked there,” Lucca notes.

This is LAL up to its usual tricks. Decisions get made over things like this, without any regard for anything other than money. They offer jobs to people not because they value them, but because offering jobs solves their problems. Everything they do seems to be done to (temporarily?) patch a hole. They all wanted their friend Alicia to come back in 6x20, then turned on her for a rich client (whose political views they disagree with!); this is the same thing, but the decision’s more favorable to Alicia. They don’t want Alicia back—they want their clients back. And they don’t want Lucca at all, she’s just part of the package. “Come back to Lockhart/Agos,” Cary says, ignoring that he’s talking directly to Alicia and not at all to Lucca.

Alicia has struggled with this question before: what do you do if you’re not feeling valued as a person in a work environment. That’s what’s at the core of a lot of this tension, though there are of course also issues of representing clients she doesn’t want to, dealing with people she doesn’t want to, having responsibilities she doesn’t want to, and making decisions based on a bottom line rather than on what she wants to do. In season 4, Diane is absolutely correct to tell Alicia to stop moping and accept the partnership offer because it’s not just going to wait around for her, and she’ll still emerge from this mess a partner. But that advice assumes that one’s goal is… to become Diane Lockhart. And in a firm with a hierarchy like LAL’s, it probably is. But if that’s not one’s goal—and it’s no longer Alicia’s goal—then why not mope? Why not value feeling good about your work and the people you work with more than you value making a ton of money and being made partner?

Cary repeats his offer: “We want you to come back, and we want you to come with her.” “Diane does?” Alicia inquires. “Well, she understands the situation,” Cary explains. Sounds like a fun work environment!

“Thank you, but I’m not interested,” Alicia replies, closing the door. “If you change your mind…” Cary adds. “I won’t. Thank you. Bye,” Alicia insists. Lucca… is not so sure. (I hope Alicia sticks with this decision. S7’s made it pretty clear she’s happier not at LAL and I don’t want this to be one of those I’M NOT RUNNING I’M NOT RUNNING I’M NOT RUNNING I WOULD LIKE TO ANNOUNCE MY CANDIDACY FOR STATE’S ATTORNEY OF COOK COUNTY plotlines.)

“Shall we at least discuss this?” Lucca asks. It’s a good question, but, unfortunately for Lucca, I don’t think she gets much of a say here. It’s not a big firm that can merge—it’s two people. If one of them doesn’t want to, the merge can’t happen. The bigger question to address isn’t whether they should both go to LAL, it’s whether they should remain partners or start looking at other options. They do need to have that conversation at this point.

But this LAL offer was… pretty clearly more for Alicia than for Lucca. If Lucca said, “No thanks, but Alicia, you go,” Bea and the others would probably be like, “Oh, so sorry to hear that, so Alicia, we have this case for you to get started on…” But if Lucca went without Alicia, Bea would probably keep looking for another firm. Lucca, of course, deserves a voice in this conversation, but if Alicia’s against this move back to an environment she knows she doesn’t want to be in and the offer’s being extended primarily to her, I don’t see why she shouldn’t shut it down. Lucca’s interest isn’t going to erase the time she spent at that firm, miserable, and how much it took to escape it.

(But again, Alicia and Lucca really should have a talk about their firm and what they want for its future.)

Anyway, Alicia says okay when Lucca wants to discuss, so they ARE having the conversation I’m saying they should have, so she’s not being as self-centered as I’m implying she was, and Lucca makes good points about how they’re struggling, taking on mostly DUIs and working out of an apartment. “And we don’t have to answer to anyone,” Alicia counters (it’s her theme for the season!). “Because no one else wants us,” Lucca responses. She’s got a point. 

“Do you want to go and work for a big firm?” Alicia asks Lucca. “I don’t know. Maybe?” Lucca says. “Well, I can’t,” Alicia states. “So what do we do?” Lucca wants to know. This conversation is—unfortunately, since it’s a very important conversation—interrupted by Marissa at the door.

“You have to forgive my dad,” Marissa insists as Alicia opens the door. Lucca takes Marissa’s appearance as her cue to leave. (Please, can we get back to the Alicia/Lucca partnership discussion in an episode or two? It's very interesting and needs to be addressed again.)

“My dad cares about you, Alicia. He only confessed to you what he did because he was torn up about it. He never had to confess. You wouldn’t have known. No one would’ve known. But he cares about you, and my dad doesn’t care about many people,” Marissa defends Eli. (That’s the point, isn’t it? She wouldn’t have known. He did it because he was torn up about it. I think it’s a forgivable offense, but I don’t think Alicia needs to accept this explanation or forgive him.)

“Yes, he did wrong, but let him apologize, let him…” Marissa continues before reacting to Alicia’s stare. Marissa defending her dad is so sweet. Of course she’s going to see his side and want him to be happy.

“I hurt,” Alicia explains to Marissa, on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry,” Marissa says. “It hurt me,” Alicia continues. “He knows that,” Marissa assures her. “Then he can’t expect anything more of me. It would be unfair of him to expect anything more,” Alicia explains. I hope, for Alicia’s sake (and Eli’s, I guess), she’s able to forgive Eli. But she’s right that he can’t expect her to.

Marissa suggests an alternative: Alicia should phone Eli and tell him he’s forgiven, but also that she doesn’t want to talk to him for a while. Alicia shuts that down too. “Please?” “Marissa, I… no,” Alicia says.

Marissa leaves; Alicia fights off tears.

What devastates me the most about this scene—a scene that I think captures both sides of the argument well and in a way that’s true to character—is that I’m watching Alicia do the same thing she always does when someone betrays her. She shuts them out and refuses to forgive. Don’t get me wrong: she has every right to do this, and she’s experienced more betrayals than your average person. But knowing that it’s not unreasonable of her to behave this way and understanding why she’s doing this doesn’t make it hurt less. If Alicia could forgive, understand, talk, let people in, she could be so much happier. Time and time again, this happens, and time and time again, she becomes unable to forgive. It’s not her fault she’s lonely or that people keep betraying her (thanks writers!), but she reacts in ways that intensify her loneliness. She hasn’t been able to change her reaction to this sort of situation, and I see history repeating itself and it’s sad.

[florrickandassociates]

TGW Thoughts: 7x11-- Iowa

Thoughts on 7x11 under the cut. 

In a move that will shock no one who watched the promo for this episode, Iowa picks up where KSR left off. “Get out,” Alicia instructs Eli before she looks away. Then we fade to black, as though to indicate that we’ll be moving on to something new. We don’t—we pick up in the same exact place.

It’s puzzling. Why is this fade to black here?! There’s no reason whatsoever for it to be here. The scene is continuous. This is a style choice that would make sense if we were switching perspectives, or entering an alternate version of the scene. It’s not even obscuring an awkward jump cut, because the shot that appears after the darkness is Eli, not Alicia. It seems to function here as the visual language of a previously on sequence, but there’s no reason for a previously on. Previously on the exact moment we’re in right now? Are we supposed to think time passes between Alicia looking away and Eli saying, “I’m sorry. It’s bothered me for the last six…” ?

Actually, wait a second—that’s not the line from KSR. I checked. They used a different take at the start of Iowa than we saw in KSR. Maybe that explains the editing weirdness, though I can’t imagine why it would.

“Eli. I need you not to talk,” Alicia commands, still looking away. He stays where he is, nods awkwardly, and says, “Okay.” MOVE YOUR ASS, ELI. She just took your glass back and said get out. Why the fuck are you still seated? GET. THE FUCK. OUT. You are no longer an invited guest, goodbye.

After another moment, Alicia suddenly turns to Eli: “Get out of my house.” And does Eli get out? NO! “I’m afraid if I don’t explain—,“ he starts, before Alicia kicks over a chair. She’s serious.

“Do… do you want me to…” Eli asks after the chair kicking. Yes, Eli. She actually meant it when she told you to get out of her house twice. It’s amazing how sometimes people do this thing called talking, where they tell you what they want and mean it.

So she shoves the table at him. He jumps up, panicked. But does he leave? NO!

As Alicia tries to collect herself and decide what to do next, Eli, apparently, stays. Alicia’s just kicked over a chair and pushed a table at him, and told him to get out twice, and Eli is STILL. FUCKING. THERE. You know how Alicia tells Jackie she has to tell her things twice before they stick? How many times do you need to tell Eli something to get him to understand it?

Alicia moves over to a china cabinet and begins to remove plates. Curious, Eli stays and watches. Instead of getting out.

This is where the scene loses me. Why does Eli stay? The only reason I can think of that he stays—other than curiosity about what the fuck Alicia’s doing with the plates, though I don’t know why he wasn’t already on his way out before—is that the director told him to. It takes Eli a while to process information, he’s shocked at her reaction, and he wants to make sure Alicia knows what his intentions are—ok. I accept that. But the scene doesn’t do a good job of illustrating it. A good chunk of it requires that he stay and watch, in silence, until Alicia literally throws plates at him. Eli’s tenacious, but is he THAT tenacious?

Picture this slightly modified version of this scene: Eli senses Alicia’s anger, and then feels it’s his responsibility. He begins saying things like, “Don’t get mad, Alicia.” “I didn’t mean to upset you, Alicia.” “Alicia, please let me explain.” He tries to instruct her how to feel, which she doesn’t like (see: 6x12) and he tries to explain himself, which she finds selfish (see: 2x22), and she channels her anger at him as he refuses to stop. The whole time, he’s talking—babbling, even. Saying he understands; not understanding. Instead of seeing Alicia’s reaction after pushing the table, we see the scene from an angle where both Alicia’s uncertainty and Eli’s concern about her well-being are clear, as he slowly backs away. He hovers, and we understand why he hovers.

This scenario really isn’t that far off from what we see, which is why I’m not as down on this sequence as I could be, given that it’s a sequence of Alicia Florrick throwing plates at someone. But the scene—in writing and in directing—fails to convey the emotional weight of the scene. Alicia’s anger is a lot more interesting if we see how Eli prevents her from being able to react in her own way in private. What I get from the scene as aired is that Alicia’s angry because Eli meddled and she missed her chance (and maybe she has some pent up anger about other things, too). What I should get from the scene is that Alicia’s angry because Eli meddled and she missed her chance (+ other things), and her anger takes the form of throwing plates at Eli BECAUSE ______. There’s no because in this scene, except, “because DRAMA.”

Alicia begins to sort through a stack of plates, separating the plates she doesn’t value from the patterned ones she does. It’s the exact sort of methodical gesture I’d expect from Alicia—calculation even in anger (and it reminds me of Bree Van de Kamp on Desperate Housewives polishing the silverware before crying about Rex’s death, which is one of the all-time great moments of that show).

Once she’s done sorting, she takes the stack of plates she no longer needs and throws one at Eli, who is still hovering. “Alicia, I’ll be on the bus, so I think we should…” Eli exclaims, dodging the plates. She runs after him and continues throwing plates until he leaves, losing any self-control she had in the process.

For the love of God, Eli, if you are so concerned about campaign bus awkwardness, maybe you should’ve picked a different time to send Alicia spiraling. I’m so sorry this is awkward for you. How did you THINK she would react? DID you think about how she would react? Alicia does not need to have a conversation about combatting awkwardness with you right now. You are not entitled to have that conversation with her. She is, however, entitled to her privacy—something you didn’t understand when you listened to and deleted her voicemail, and something you evidently don’t understand now, staying in her apartment after being asked to leave.

(As for Alicia throwing plates, I get that anger. Maybe she even would’ve thrown the plates if Eli had left, just for some release. The problem I have, really, is that if Alicia would let Eli see her lose it to that extent: this isn’t just a fit of rage (like it would be if Alicia threw the margarita glass or like it was when she kicked over the chair), and I’m missing the justification in the script for why Alicia, in control enough to sort the plates, still goes on the attack. And that justification, I think, needed to come in the form of Eli provoking her not just by standing around because the script said to, but by attempting to problem solve as though this is a matter that concerns both of them rather than something private for Alicia to think about on her own.)

Eli catches his breath after Alicia slams the door. On the other side of the door, Alicia does the same, walking unsteadily and slowly into her bedroom, where her suitcase is half-packed. She surveys her progress, then begins to transfer more items into the suitcase. She’s almost done when she’s overcome with emotion again. She throws the suitcase up in the air, hits her bed, wails, then sinks to the floor and begins to cry. Now THAT’S the reaction I was expecting.

The apartment’s a mess, littered with shards of glass Alicia doesn’t move to clean up. She’s too busy crying. She collects herself, and begins to pack the suitcase again. Why does it seem like she’s only packing pajamas? I know—not the point.

Someone knocks on the door. Uh oh! But it’s just Sparky, who is not yet in San Francisco. Looking like a mess, Alicia opens the door slightly, just enough so that she and Jason can talk but not enough so that Jason can see into the apartment. She lies and says she was just in the shower.

Anyway, Jason’s there because he’s been investigating Howard’s finances, for Peter, who’s investigating them for Jackie. Howard has $2.2 million in a shell company. Whoopsie!

Jason asks if Alicia’s alright, because she looks distracted. She says she’s fine. She’s just packing and trying to get out the door.

“I’ll see you,” he replies. “Yes. Good,” she says, closing the door on him. (Wow Eli, that worked out so well! You told her about the voicemail so she’d go be happy with Jason, and then when he showed up at her doorstep—she didn’t even have to lift a finger!—she still didn’t act on any burning desire for him!) (How did Eli think that this reveal was going to make Alicia see how much she needed to be with Jason? What does he even know about Alicia and Jason? UGH, ELI.) (This is entirely me ragging on Eli, not me complaining about writing. I buy this coming from Eli, especially from a heartbroken and guilty-feeling Eli.)

Jason walks away, confused. Cut to… corn! I just love establishing stock footage. It’s not at all jarring, and it’s always highly necessary! (Just show the campaign bus.)

On the campaign bus, in Iowa (if you didn’t get that from the characters saying it, the title of the episode, the signage, the context of the show, or all the corn), Ruth and Eli are bickering. They have the “Full Grassley” in sight, and Ruth wants to go for it. She’s already decided. Josh Blah Blah is here, too and… well, at least he can’t yell at Marissa?

Alicia is on the campaign bus as planned, but she’s sitting inside with dark sunglasses and staring at her iPad. She looks silly. I know this is supposed to be symbolic. She still looks silly. It might not be the sunglasses so much as those particular sunglasses in combination with that sweater, and that wig. (My mom’s first comment about this episode: “Alicia’s wig is awful.”)

Grace interrupts Alicia to ask what she’s reading. Hi Gracie! Alicia is reading Jane Eyre. People who have read it: what’s the symbolism?

“Why?” Grace asks. “I want to,” Alicia says dismissively. “Mom, are you okay?” Grace asks. “I am great,” Alicia says with fake sincerity.

Then Zach, HI ZACH ZACH ZACH ZAAAAAACHHHH YAY ZACH, and Grace start bickering about how boring/not boring Iowa is. It’s nothing that I need to transcribe, just sibling banter stuff I’m happy to see on the show again.

Alicia ignores her children, puts her earbuds back in (“No one’s more happy than you”), and resumes reading. Meh. I think I’m more excited to see her kids than she is, and that makes me sad. I’m sure it’s taken every bit of resolve Alicia has just to be on that bus doing her duty, but… sigh.

A bit later, Peter approaches Alicia and asks if she’s getting carsick—she usually gets carsick when she reads in the car. Aww. I wonder if she’s actually reading, or if she’s just staring off into space. Poor thing. (I also wonder if Peter, Alicia, and the kids ever did a family road trip, and if so, where they went and if I can get stories about it.)

Peter’s called away to join the argument about whether or not they should do the Full Grassley—going to every county in Iowa; they’re three away-- and get nightly news coverage, or head to Des Moines and not look desperate. I want to know how they’re polling to weigh in on this. Actually, no, I just don’t want to weigh in on this. I’ll leave that to Alicia.

Peter calls Alicia in for her opinion. She dawdles in, still wearing sunglasses, still looking absurd. Zach explains the dilemma to her. Alicia sides with Ruth to spite Eli, then turns around to take a phone call. Thinking with our political hat today, are we, Alicia?

It’s Lucca on the phone; she’s handling the Jackie/Howard prenup. That’s going on for Jackie in what may be the last days of Peter’s campaign?! Did she want to be on the campaign bus?!

Jackie and Howard are ready to sign the prenup… until Lucca mentions the $2.2 million. Howard doesn’t know what it’s about, but David Lee does. He barges into a meeting Cary and Diane are having with a woman from the Fair Employment Practices Agency. They’ve received a complaint about discriminatory hiring practices at LAL. Well, that was inevitable.

Cary blames Canning, because Canning is the devil. Diane doesn’t think it’s Canning.

And they have another problem, which is that David Lee did something illegal to screw over someone else, because David Lee is also the devil.

No one is awaiting the arrival of the Florricks in the first town they pull into. Always a good sign. “You’ll never beat Hillary and Bernie’s crowds,” Ruth says. He won’t? Then why do they expect him to be competitive?

The only person waiting for him is the glee club teacher from season 2, his biggest fan. His biggest fan who shows up in this small town to show support, but hasn’t shown up anywhere else since season 2. Right. (Peter and the campaign team would know Peter’s biggest fan by now, especially if he was always in costume.)

“It’s not about the crowds; it’s about how it’s reported,” Ruth explains to Blah Blah. “And who’ll report it? Any reporter worth his salt is gonna photograph how empty this all is.” YES THANK YOU BLAH BLAH, THIS IS WHAT I WAS SCREAMING AT MY TV DURING 7x06 WHEN THE NATIONAL PRESS AND ALL OF THE PEOPLE ROAMING AROUND THAT GYM DIDN’T CARE THAT THEY WERE IN A NINETY DEGREE GYM IN WINTER COATS TRYING TO LOOK LIKE THE OBAMAS.

Ruth knows this (though 7x06 is evidence to the contrary) (or just… I don’t even know what the writers were thinking), and that’s why Mr. Elk (Willoughby. But I call him Mr. Elk, for “Things of that Elk”) is the reporter on the scene. On screen, it looks like there might actually be people there!

Alicia isn’t required for this appearance, so she’s leaning against the campaign bus and listening to the “No One’s More Happy Than You” song again while staring off into the distance. The sunglasses make sense outside, and I love this shot. Eli approaches, and she walks away, in Ruth’s direction. She removes her earbuds.

“Don’t worry,” she tells Ruth. “Peter’ll be happy when you surround him with cheering people.” Bwah! Probably true. Peter likes cheering people. At least, he likes cheering people under most circumstances. I don’t think he much appreciates staged crowds or self-identified Florrick Fanatics in costume.

“I hope this campaign isn’t over tomorrow,” Ruth replies. “I’d really like to get to know you, Alicia.” “Why?” “You’re… interesting. You don’t let things confuse you,” Ruth explains.

“I’m not sure that’s true,” Alicia says. I’m not sure that’s true, either. Alicia’s just very good at projecting the appearance of being deliberate and unflappable. “I used to think I knew what life is about, but I don’t have a clue,” Alicia confesses. It’s more forward than she usually is, and I’m intrigued by the way she struck up this conversation with Ruth, almost like she wanted to talk. There’s something about Ruth—whether it’s her act or her authentic self (whatever that means)—that seems comforting and sagely, plus she’s the anti-Eli, and the only woman other than Grace on the bus that Alicia could talk to. It’s almost like Alicia wants to talk about how she’s feeling—or, perhaps, that she doesn’t want to keep her emotions all bottled up, festering as she sits on a campaign bus during tense times.

“Cherish that moment. When you realize you don’t know what life’s about. That’s truth,” Ruth advises. Hm. Alicia smiles and nods. “You think you could ever be happy, if you had… taken a left instead of a right, or went up instead of down, you would’ve been happy?” Alicia asks. “No,” Ruth responds immediately. “Really?” Alicia asks. She’s certainly thinking she could’ve been happy if she made different choices.

“You can’t control fate. It’s in your genes. Can’t change that,” Ruth argues. That’s… drastic. My life is determined by genetics? So if I just run the right tests on a strand of my hair, I’ll be able to predict if/when I get married, how many kids I’ll have, and where I’ll end up working? Cool, Ruth! Can you tell me more about this? (I wonder to what extent she believes this, and to what extent she’s trying to quash an obvious problem for the campaign.)

(And no, of course you can’t control your fate completely. Parts of your life are determined by where you were born, how you were raised, what opportunities you’ve had, what people you meet, etc. Alicia’s goal is to have a happy life and to control her fate—she says it when she’s drunk and making a business pitch, but it’s still her goal—and now Ruth’s telling her fate can’t be controlled. I guess the question now is… what is fate? When I hit “synonyms” for fate in Word, I get a list of words that do not mean the same thing—“destiny” and “outcome,” for example. Ruth seems to be talking about fate in the sense of destiny: the one inevitable conclusion. I’ve always thought Alicia was talking about fate in the broader sense of the word: outcome. It’s not possible to control everything (and it’s not possible to control your predestined fate, if that’s what you believe in) but it’s definitely possible to put yourself in positions where you have relatively more control.)

ANYWAY. “So whatever I do, whatever I did, I’d end up right back here?” Alicia questions. “Well, maybe not here, but some place like here. At the end of every fork, there’s a cliff. Go ahead, take the ‘road less traveled.’ You’ll still find that cliff,” Ruth clarifies. And that? That makes sense. That’s something I think Alicia understands—maybe even something Alicia would’ve said herself in the earlier seasons. Like, “we would’ve lasted a week.” There’s no such thing as happily ever after. A very different point than “your fate is in your genes” (I’m still puzzling over that one), but one I can get on board with, and one that (much more importantly) I think will resonate with Alicia once she starts thinking less emotionally. Every little decision could change “fate” (I’m pretty sure there was even an episode of some Disney show where the protag lived entirely different lives based on whether she wore a blue shirt or an orange shirt to school one day). Every road has a road less traveled (or several). Unless Alicia’s suddenly become Veronica—convinced that there’s some sort of unending happiness you can find if you just follow your heart—she’s probably going to wind up seeking stability (as she always has) and control (as she has since the scandal). Hopefully, the biggest shift the voicemail reveal will cause is that Alicia will start taking action in her personal life. (The original scandal wasn’t her fault. Her unhappiness in a marriage/campaign she stayed in voluntarily for going on seven years after the scandal could’ve been prevented by addressing it years ago.) (And she could’ve addressed it years ago without the voicemail.)

“I think if I could go back to Georgetown right now,” Alicia begins. Huh. She doesn’t go back to the press conference—though that is, admittedly, a more difficult situation to explain. She goes back to Georgetown. Maybe they would’ve lasted a week, but she would’ve known for sure. Maybe her life would’ve turned out differently and they would’ve fallen in love. It feels as though Alicia, subconsciously, realizes that the voicemail wouldn’t have changed much. She probably wouldn’t have found happily ever after with Will; probably wouldn’t have run off with him. She can picture what a relationship with Will as an adult would be like (she has the images of season 3 to rely on, whether she wants to or not), but there’s even more to fantasize about when she can start the story over in her mind. It makes more sense to go back to the start, with no complications standing in the way. (And yes, I definitely agree with everyone who’s pointed out that Alicia’s essentially erasing her children by entertaining this line of thought. But I’m not sure that’s exactly what she means. I think she’s just fantasizing, almost as though it hasn’t even occurred to her that the kids are part Peter. She’s probably just assuming she’d have the same kids but with Will. If she can believe, however momentarily, that she could’ve made one decision and found happily ever after, she can believe her kids would be the same in any scenario. Or maybe I’m rationalizing because it makes me deeply uncomfortable to think that Alicia regrets her children.)

(Also, it’s interesting that the voicemail reveal has her thinking about her whole life, not just that moment. It reopened all the fantasies.)

Right. “I think if I could go back to Georgetown right now,” Alicia says. “Back to Criminal Law 101, seat 35L, that was my seat, I would’ve said yes.” “Yes to what?” Ruth wants to know. “There was a young man… in love with me,” Alicia confesses. Oh, Alicia. And you don’t even KNOW he said he’d loved you ever since Georgetown! She’s conflating things—his love voiced in season 2 with how he must’ve felt at Georgetown. Maybe she’s even talking about the voicemail deletion via this other story, where the choice was more clear-cut. It’s easy to say “yes” to a guy asking you out when you’re young and single; harder when you’re middle-aged and married (with baggage, with children). Easier to dream of alternate life if you can go back that far.

Whatever’s happening inside Alicia’s mind, one thing’s clear: it’s a jumble of emotion, regret, and sadness.

Ruth wants to continue this conversation in private on the bus, but Alicia’s on the verge of tears (or at least it seems that way—she still has the sunglasses on so it’s hard to tell when you can’t see her eyes) and she puts the music back on, says, “No, I’m good,” and watches Peter (and Zach) campaigning.  Overwhelmed, she walks away. Title credits.

At the top of act two (or act one, because I think the pre-credits thing is technically called the “teaser”), Cary and Diane investigate the source of the FEPA complaint. Their first guess is Monica—and they’re right. She reminds them they can’t be asking, but then explains that she did, indeed, file a complaint with the EEOC. She withdrew it, but the process was already in motion. “That’s too bad, isn’t it?” Monica snarks.

Ruth wants the campaign bus to go faster so they can complete the Full Monty. Excuse me. The Full Grassley. (I know the difference. Mr. Elk, now on the campaign bus interviewing Eli, does not.)

Eli decides to initiate a conversation with Alicia in the middle of the interview. He walks over to where she’s sitting and reading (still in her sunglasses), and says: “Alicia, give me five minutes. You don’t need to talk.” She reaches for her phone to make a show of turning up the volume on her music.

“Just listen to me for five minutes. It’s a nightmare just watching you like this,” Eli continues. I hope, for Eli’s sake, Alicia isn’t planning on replacing that iPad any time soon. You never know when things will start flying…

“No, you know what the nightmare is,” Alicia responds bitterly. “Being here. When I want to be home. Being on a bus in the middle of Iowa. That’s the nightmare. Now leave me alone.” She gets up to move away from him; he doesn’t follow her.

Howard wants his money—the money that David Lee put in his name, that is.

Chris Matthews is now covering Peter’s campaign! Ruth is happy about this! Josh is not, because Matthews is apparently the only one covering it, except for Backroom.

The bus pulls into the next county, which looks exactly like the last county because this show has a TV budget. Also like the last county, Peter will have to sample a loose meat sandwich. I don’t know what a loose meat sandwich is, nor do I want to.

When the Florricks emerge from the bus, the crowd is booing (except for the Florrick Fanatic, who is cheering). This comes as a shock, and bam, they’re back on the bus. I don’t know WHY this comes as a shock.

It’s not until Zach finds a story on something called Glare that they find out why everyone’s booing. Hold up. The people in a small town in Iowa have found out about a story before tech genius Zach, seasoned campaign managers Eli and Ruth, and social media specialist Josh Mariner? I knew small town gossip was a thing but I didn’t know it worked that swiftly! I’m impressed, people of small town Iowa!

Glare Gossip has a video of Alicia talking about Iowa being a nightmare from her earlier conversation with Eli. Ruth silently accuses Eli of being behind it; he’s not. She then finds Mr. Elk and yells at him. His producer is the one who leaked it. Right. Ok. So why didn’t his producer also leak that there was no crowd? I thought the whole point of having Mr. Elk was so that they’d get favorable coverage. The way lawyers get about the law on this show is the way I get about the portrayal of the media. At least be consistent, writers.

“What do you want me to do?” Alicia volunteers, though there’s a little bit of weird editing going on here where the scenes feel continuous (Alicia begins to speak before she’s shown on screen, as though she’s walking into the space just outside of the frame) but it also seems like maybe a bit of time has passed, since Ruth is now sitting down.

Ruth needs Alicia to apologize for the comment and say she just meant she wanted to be at home with her sick child. (Grace has a cold.) “All the media attention is hard on a mother who’s protective of her children, can you say that?” Ruth asks. “Yes,” Alicia replies.

Alicia gets up to leave, but Ruth isn’t done yet. She switches gears: “Still thinking about first love?” Alicia doesn’t reply, but Ruth understands the implicit yes. “Sit back down,” she offers. Alicia listens.

“I was in love,” Ruth begins. “Long time ago. He was a pollster; I was a lowly volunteer. I won’t tell you what campaign ‘cause it’ll date me. He wanted children; I didn’t. So that was it. I remember the last time I saw him. Everything about it. It was the middle of a sidewalk. The light just turned yellow, and I had to go one way, and he had to go the other. And it was the best kiss of my life. The absolute best. For a long time, I wondered how my life would’ve changed if I’d said yes to him. Until I saw last year, he was sent to prison for mail fraud.” Alicia smiles as Ruth tells the story.

“That looked like it was gonna go somewhere,” Alicia remarks. “Whatever you think you could’ve changed in your life, or in his, you couldn’t have,” Ruth explains. “Oh, I don’t know if that’s true,” Alicia counters. (I don’t know if that’s true either, for what it’s worth. I don’t think people who commit mail fraud were destined from birth to commit mail fraud, you know?)

“It is true,” Ruth insists. “You know why?” Alicia doesn’t. “I just told you,” Ruth offers. Well, the Emmys love Margo Martindale, and now she’s gotten good material from this show (after 11 episodes), so, I’m betting on an Emmy win for Margo for this scene.

Whether or not Alicia believes what Ruth says—and it’s possible she just finds comfort in hearing Ruth’s perspective, story, and support--, Ruth’s strategy is effective. Alicia sees the light!

Literally, that is: she finally takes off those damn sunglasses. (I’m sorry about the seeing the light thing. I had to. It was right there.)

Alicia does an interview with Mr. Elk in which she comes off as both phony (to the audience of TGW) and sincere (to the viewing public of Mr. Elk’s coverage). I don’t know how Julianna does it, but her ability to make lines seem at once heartfelt and bitingly sarcastic is stunning.

For example: “When I was caught saying it was a nightmare to be here. What I actually meant was it was a nightmare to be away from my kitchen, when one of my kids has a cold. I was hoping to take care of my kids. I'm sure every mom can relate.” Kitchen. Hah. Nice family values, Alicia. It’s just not the same, fixing a frozen dinner for your eighteen year old kid on a luxurious campaign bus.

Howard goes along with David Lee’s plan and tells Jackie he forgot about the $2.2 million. Lucca doesn’t buy it. Jackie does. “When you get to my age, you see this happen. And it only gets worse,” she explains. “Which is why this prenup will have to account for more than just finances.” “Well, what do you have in mind?” Lucca asks. “If I’m going to be taking care of Howard, I’ll need full power of attorney,” Jackie states. The first time I watched this, I thought Jackie was scheming or trying to make a point. As I watched the rest of the episode, I realized she really meant it, and nearly teared up. Caring for an elderly person is draining. Jackie could very easily back out of this marriage and avoid that pain. But it doesn’t faze her that Howard might be losing his memory; she still wants to marry him. In sickness and in health.

Cary and Diane nervously watch Monica’s meeting with the woman from FEPA. Diane doesn’t think Monica will sell them out. Monica didn’t sell them out, but it didn’t go well: the FEPA woman saw her video, which she included in the original complaint. And the FEPA woman thinks Monica was hired to make the complaint go away. (Nope! LAL is actually not guilty here!)

The next county in Iowa is a lot more lively, thanks to glee club teacher, who it seems is Peter’s best strategy in Iowa. Peter just has to shake hands and eat another loose meat sandwich (he doesn’t want to!)

Oh my God guys the captioning has the lyrics to the Florrick Fanatic rap and it includes the line “Peter’s smarter than Einstein.”

Florrick Fanatic also calls Peter “my Peter,” which I thought was weird, until I remembered that I always refer to TGW as “my show,” so I can’t judge.  

Alicia and Ruth sit inside the campaign bus as the festivities go on outside. No more sunglasses. 24 more hours. And now it’s time for some exposition for the second (shakier…) half of the episode: what’s considered winning for Peter? Second place, Ruth says. Losing is third place. “Can we do it?” Alicia asks. “Do you want to do it?” Ruth responds. “I have no idea,” Alicia admits.

This is, I think, one of the central dilemmas of Alicia’s life at present. It would be much easier for her to sulk and get on with her life if she knew what she wanted. As it stands, she doesn’t know. She doesn’t like the invasion of privacy that comes with campaigning, or being in limbo in her personal life. But she likes the association with power, maintaining the family unit in some form, and Peter’s politics. It seems obvious to me, as a viewer, that Alicia would be happier out of the marriage and without politics in her life, since it’s the one thing that we can consistently count on to wreak havoc and upset her. Seeing it from Alicia’s POV (where privacy doesn’t seem to exist, love is a fantasy, and power is familiar and beneficial), it’s a harder call to make. Which does she value more—privacy or power? She has no idea.  

Act two ends on the thrilling cliffhanger of Peter not-as-discreetly-as-he’d-hoped spitting out his loose meat sandwich. DRAMATIC!!!!!!!!!!!! (I mean, I laughed.) (In part I laughed because politics can be silly, which is probably the effect the writers wanted. In part I laughed because my god, how many crises does an episode need? Isn’t there enough drama in the final day of a campaign with the entire family trapped on a bus with tons of tension? Can’t THAT anchor the episode instead of plot?)

(Of course, some of the twists and turns happen to advance character development. Alicia has to be caught sulking to stop sulking and motivate conversations with Ruth, for example. Still, couldn’t they have gotten to this point a different way? The best storytelling happens when plot and character are a perfect match.)

David Lee and Lucca have a discussion about King Lear. This amuses me.

Howard Lyman is mostly portrayed as competent and complex in this episode, but he still refers to Lucca not by name but as “young, ethnically ambitious woman.” What does that even mean? The captions have it as “ethnically” and that makes sense coming from Howard, but is there a chance he says “ethically”? Or does he mean ethnically ambiguous, since Lucca’s biracial?

Howard tells Jackie the truth; she thinks he’s becoming delusional.

Diane tells Cary FEPA needs an apology, and they’re going to comply. Specifically, Cary is going to comply (if Diane has her way). Cary thinks it should be Lyman apologizing. “You need to do it for the firm. The firm with your name,” Diane instructs. I would be okay with blaming Lyman for this. I am also okay with Mr. Reverse Racism Is A Thing actually facing a consequence.

Alicia, Grace, Zach, and Ruth walk into a high school gym where a caucus is taking place. This is the bellwether precinct, and it matters. I also just learned—because I am ignorant—that a bellwether precinct is a precinct that’s indicative of trends in the county.

Ruth is very excited by the IA caucus atmosphere. That is, until Ruth + Florricks realize that… no one is in Peter’s corner. Not a single person of the thirty who promised to show up are there. So now the Florricks have to talk to caucus goers without approaching them and convince them to support Peter, or he isn’t viable in that precinct. Alicia steps away as Ruth explains the rules, and Ruth asks who she’s PHONING. Ruth actually said phoning! It’s back!

Alicia is phoning Josh. Josh is mad! “Less anger, more action,” Alicia says calmly.

They need 29 voters, Ruth reminds Alicia. GO, GO, GO!

Alicia talks to a group of voters. Rather, Alicia is talked at by a group of voters. Zach tries to strike up a conversation (is this allowed, since it’s not about politics?) with a girl in a Georgetown hoodie (she was accepted early decision). He tries to flirt, but the minute he reveals who he is, the girl is all, “SO YOUR SISTER IS GRACE, RIGHT?!” Grace and Ruth are also successful: Grace talks about Christianity; Ruth talks about her roots in Iowa.

2 minutes left on the clock and Alicia is still being talked at by the same group of voters. Alicia’s amazing at this. “I could make a laundry list of all the hard things my husband’s done, but I’ll just say that when he’s faced with any tough decisions, my husband always asks himself one question: will this make a positive impact on people’s lives.” Eli sees Alicia in action and smiles. Out of context, it looks like Alicia’s doing GREAT! In context, she’s spent 28 minutes being talked at. At least she’s surrounded by a group of people and not just one person, so her speech at the last minute can convert a lot of caucus-goers.

They have 28 people—they need one more. Zach tries to get Sam, the Georgetown girl, on Peter’s side, because Bernie doesn’t need any more people there and Peter does. (What does it matter, though? If Peter’s at risk of not even being a viable candidate at the precinct that’s indicative of how things are going at other precincts (other precincts that DON’T have three Florricks and two campaign managers on the floor), isn’t he going to lose no matter what? Is it just about the embarrassment of not even being viable? Or do they honestly think that in the discussion that follows the viability call, they’ll be able to win over even more voters?) Sam won’t budge.

Zach gets an idea: have Grace try to get Sam to their side. Grace doesn’t believe Zach at first when he says that Sam likes her, but as soon as she realizes what he’s saying, she tries to get Sam to their side. Sam says no, but then decides to go over to Team Florrick. “We need Florrick,” they all begin chanting, having reached 30 people. Awww! Yay! I guess!

Over at LAL, Lucca phones Jason, but she’s having trouble hearing him. This is due to the constant trolley noises everyone knows you hear everywhere you go in San Francisco. See, Jason is in San Francisco. Did you know that Jason is in San Francisco? I didn’t recall after all the discussion about his new job. And the trolley noises don’t quite scream SAN FRANCISCO enough to me, so I’m really thrilled they added in the vivid reflection of the Golden Gate Bridge on the windshield, and then had Jason mention that he’s in San Francisco. I wouldn’t have known he was there from him saying it without the visual of the city’s most iconic feature. Nope.

“Alicia didn’t say anything about you being in California. Is everything alright with you two?” Lucca asks. Oh. Good to know Alicia didn’t feel it necessary to tell her partner that they were temporarily losing their investigator. (But actually, for plot, it is good to know that.)

Jason can still work for Florrick/Quinn remotely.

The woman from FEPA says that LAL has fostered a racist culture. Cary says that, unfortunately, he doesn’t disagree. “Things like this, things that are so embedded in the corporate culture, they… they don’t happen overnight. In our case, it was handed down by a longstanding senior partner named Howard Lyman,” Cary continues. This is Cary being sneaky to get what he wants—Lyman taking emeritus status. It’s probably the smartest business move (and easy for Diane to say Cary should take the blame! She was so good about taking the blame herself last week when a problem she missed turned into a big deal, wasn’t she? (No.)), and Diane isn’t even hearing Cary out (if FEPA would accept the Lyman apology, why would Cary need to take responsibility, anyway? Diane plays it like it’s Cary’s duty to take the fall, but is it?), but it makes me feel uncomfortable I think that’s because I wanted to see Cary understand his mistake, and this ending gives him an out—and gives him something he’s wanted.  

Diane feels upset by this, since it’s Cary twisting this to benefit himself. (Why does Diane feel so loyal to Lyman? I guess he’s saved her ass enough times she feels bad about this?) Cary says he was just doing what he had to in order to save the firm. Maybe? It probably looks better to blame an old dude than for the young name partner to take the blame? But this… was not fully selfless. (Maybe Diane and Cary’s partnership isn’t as strong as I thought it was after the high five in KSR.)

End of act three and… a caucus-goer has disappeared. Peter isn’t viable! Oh no!

Caucuses are exciting and dramatic—I get it. But my God, this episode spends a lot of time on this, and I don’t understand why. It’s one crisis after another for a campaign that is clearly doomed. What’s going to happen if they win this precinct? It’s a bellwether precinct, sure, but that doesn’t mean it actually CHANGES the other precincts. The other precincts will just also not have anyone at the Florrick table. They’re struggling to not be disqualified. Why does this one precinct matter so much that the episode has to focus in detail on the caucus process? It’s supposed to be the climax of the campaign, but the writing’s on the wall: Peter lost. He didn’t even come close. Give me that empty table and be done with it; there are more interesting things to concentrate on, like Alicia’s emotional state, Alicia’s relationship with Peter, how Peter feels about the campaign, Alicia/Peter/Grace/Zach as a family, the Alicia/Eli tension… It seems silly to say the most important scenes of Peter’s presidential campaign are wastes of time, but they are. And they didn’t have to be. I’m sure the caucus would be dramatic enough without the loose meat sandwich spitting incident leading to ZERO people showing up. I find it hard to even bother being invested in scenes where the outcome is so inevitable; harder still when none of the characters seem to understand (until after the caucus ends, of course) that it’s just one precinct.

A Florrick campaign team effort (Ruth and Eli citing precedents; Alicia citing the law; Grace searching for specific rules and then passing her phone to Alicia) buys them five extra minutes to find the missing voter.

There is no Golden Gate Bridge in the next shot of Jason. The trolley noises continue. Jason tells Lucca about David Lee’s involvement with the money. “Don’t become a stranger, okay?” Lucca adds. “Hey, never, Lucca, you know me,” Jason replies. “That’s what I mean. I do know you. And I like Alicia,” Lucca responds. “Ouch. What’d I do?” Jason asks. “What you always do. Flirt with everyone,” Lucca explains. Jason laughs. “Alright, can I go now, mom?” Heh. Suddenly I want more Jason and Lucca scenes. Yay worldbuilding! Lucca’s a very sociable person in general, so it doesn’t surprise me she’d have this sort of banter with Jason. I wish we’d seen more hints of it earlier (key word MORE—there are hints, like whatever episode that is where Lucca taps Jason on the shoulder playfully), but I like it, and I can believe it. The first time we heard Jason’s name was when Lucca recommended him as an investigator, which indicates they’ve known each other a while.

Also, LOL at Jason “flirting with everyone.” SO TRUE.

They’re not going to be viable because the missing voter joined team HRC. OH NOES. BUT WAIT, THE FLORRICK FANATIC IS HERE TO SAVE THE DAY WITH A SONG! Eli is embarrassed and thinks it must be sabotage (… someone cares enough about the Florrick campaign to try to sabotage it? Right.) but it works. All it takes is one song and a dude in a costume and everyone in the gym starts following him to Peter’s corner.

Yo, if politics work like this, we shouldn’t even bother to do polling.

“This can’t really be happening, can it?” Alicia asks. NO, IT CAN’T REALLY BE HAPPENING. NOT IN THE REAL WORLD. (But you don’t live in the real world, do you, Alicia? Sometimes I almost forget that you’re fictional.)

“Iowa is different,” according to Ruth, so… oh, whatever.

On the campaign bus, the campaign team hears the news that Peter’s won the 79th precinct of Polk County. (Des Moines is in Polk County, btw.) That’s… specific. I guess it really does matter.

“That’s a 79 vote margin in this bellwether precinct that counts as an order of magnitude,” Ruth expositions, a bit too late. What does that even mean? I don’t believe this would happen. I don’t understand why this one precinct matters so much when the underlying problem is that no one showed up for Peter until the Florrick campaign + Florrick Fanatic got there. I just… I can’t get invested in this victory when it feels farfetched, and as I already said, it’s hard to care about the action. (GIVE ME PERSONAL PLOTLINES.)

Peter and Alicia move away from the crowd to talk. “Hillary won’t be pleased,” Alicia says. “It’s one precinct. We’ve got a very long way to go,” Peter responds, as he is seemingly the only person on this bus of political advisers who understands politics.

“Listen, as long as I have you here, I have to ask. That argument you had with Eli—what was it about?” Peter ventures. Ah! Another purpose for that plotline! “I think you’d prefer not to know,” Alicia answers honestly. It wouldn’t do any good for Peter to know, not at this moment, and she doesn’t make an excuse or say it was nothing. She says he would prefer not to know. “Well, is there something going on between you and Eli?” Peter jokes. “It’s about the past,” Alicia answers seriously, and Peter looks at her for a moment, understanding the basic implication.

The projected winner of the caucus is about to be announced—would they really not have an indication of how they did by this point?—so the Alicia/Peter moment has to be interrupted. (Again, ratio of personal scenes to campaign scenes is off. Too much campaigning!)

The winner is… HRC! (We’ll see if that happens; the polls are getting tight!) In second place is… Bernie! And in third place… O’Malley. I’m sorry, but O’Malley is currently polling at 5.2% (source: RealClearPolitics averages for Iowa). If Peter wasn’t polling anywhere near HRC or Bernie, loose meat sandwich fiasco or no, this is an outcome they would’ve predicted known days, weeks, in advance. If Peter was polling very well, would the loose meat sandwich thing have cost him that heavily? I don’t know. I don’t care. I’m just glad this campaign is over.

It’s almost like the writers were so afraid of the campaign coming off as silly that they never substantially (unless you count an offhand reference to some good early polling numbers) leaned into it or made it feel competitive (how’d Peter do at the debates, hmmm?), which ended up making it seem silly in a different sense.

Chris Matthews says it’s a surprise that Peter finished last. Oh. Okay. So maybe we’re supposed to believe the campaign was going well and the loose meat sandwich thing absolutely destroyed all of his support.

Peter wins Polk (the most populous county in Iowa, and idk how because that was just ONE PRECINCT they went to, unless Ruth’s “order of magnitude” remark means it counts for a lot of the overall vote for the county oh my god why am I bothering) (Oh I think I forgot to complain earlier about Zach telling Sam he’s a freshman. How is Zach still a freshman?! Did Alicia cutting him out of her life last year take more of a toll than we realized…?)  and the three counties he visited the day before. Huh? He won the county where no one showed up, the county where he was booed, and the county where he spit out the loose meat sandwich? He WON those counties?

Peter turns away from the crowd, processing.

After the commercial break, we pick up with Jackie watching the coverage and crying. Ah, finally, we get something other than the American flag pin to indicate that Jackie is invested in the campaign! Lucca walks in and says she’s sorry. Jackie then goes on a rant about Iowa and how Iowans shouldn’t be able to have so much power over presidential politics. Oh, Jackie.

Jackie also wants to settle the prenup that night, so Lucca tells her about David Lee’s involvement, which leads Jackie to realize that Howard isn’t losing his mind and David Lee actually does do things that sound so farfetched they seem like delusions. Awwww:)

Jackie goes to find Howard, who is sleeping (pantsless, of course) in his office. But his pantslessness isn’t an issue: Jackie doesn’t react to it or comment on it. Instead, she apologizes for doubting him, and the two share a sweet moment. If you told me a few months ago that I would not only not mind but would actively like and enjoy a Jackie/Howard pairing, I would’ve thought you were crazy, but here we are.

Someone’s making a strong drink, and for once, it’s not Alicia. It’s Ruth.

“You overreached,” Eli pops up to gloat. Oh, right. There was an arc here about Eli hating Ruth. Right.

“You sweet-talked Peter. Convinced him he could win the presidency. You attacked the frontrunner and ended up alienating voters,” he explains. Wow, sounds like a cool arc. What a shame we didn’t get to see it. (One or two references early with no follow-through or repercussions do not a plotline make.)

“I did exactly as you would have: followed the polling data…” Ruth explains, but Eli interrupts. That’s the strategy you follow for any other candidate. “You were with him 24/7 for months, and you missed the most fundamental thing about the man. Peter Florrick is not number one. Not nationally. She is.” Cool, but you know what would be really cool? Monologuing based in things we’ve actually seen. Go gloat elsewhere, Eli.

Ruth thinks Eli is talking about Hillary. He’s not. He’s talking about Alicia.

Hey, Eli, you know who was directly responsible for Alicia’s involvement in the campaign? YOU. That was your job title. So what you’re saying is that, to spite Ruth, you only did the bare minimum with Alicia’s involvement in the campaign, so Peter would never win, so you could then gloat about how you knew what to do and Ruth didn’t? Almost like your master plan amounted to doing nothing and then snarking at someone else’s failure? Wow, brilliant. (And I don’t even think that’s what happened, since we seemed to see Eli actually putting in effort!)

Not to mention: what we saw of the campaign were mostly the things that concerned Alicia—appearances, worries about Jason, Alicia having to do this, Alicia having to do that. And now we’re hearing that Ruth’s flaw was that she didn’t use Alicia enough, even though we were left almost completely in the dark about what the other campaign strategies were. Besides, what’s wrong with following the polling data? If Ruth followed the polling data, doesn’t that mean that Peter was polling well? So she was supposed to change up her strategies when everything seemed to be going fine, it’s just that the polls were so far off that they had Peter competitive for second place when he placed behind O’Malley? I don’t get it.

AND as if that weren’t enough, in order to accept that Alicia is the superstar Florrick, we have to accept that her rehabilitation campaign (you know, after her two scandals about stolen elections and sleeping with her boss), run by Eli, during Peter’s campaign, was successful. Which means that Alicia would’ve necessarily gotten a lot of air time and publicity, because how else are you going to redeem her in the eyes of the public? Is the show honestly asking me to believe that the rehabilitation campaign—the one we barely saw (she appeared on a reality show and it went horribly wrong! She was on the election board! Her husband slept over at her house once!)—was so successful that not only did it resurrect Saint Alicia, it made her the potential MVP of the campaign?! SHOW, NOT TELL, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. Eli turning Alicia into the campaign’s biggest asset could’ve been great to watch. But we didn’t see it. We just saw him fumbling and scheming and things going nowhere.

I don’t know if Ruth is a good campaign manager or a bad one. There aren’t enough facts for me to make a judgment, which is crazy considering how many episodes she’s been in. There’ve been “brilliant” things she’s done that have seemed totally implausible to me, and things I don’t see the problem with that she’s been criticized by other characters for doing. I know Peter’s campaign failed. I don’t know why it failed. And if it’s really about the lack of Alicia—who knows if Eli’s right; he’s been out of his mind in nearly every episode this season and I’m so over it—then I needed more from the show on that.

It’s probably just Eli trying to insult Ruth combined with his unshakable belief that Alicia is bestest politician ever. But it gets at everything I’ve disliked about the campaign this year—there’s no internal consistency and there’s nothing to latch on to. Was it an arc about a rift between friends? An arc about revenge? An arc about rehabilitation? An arc about romance and privacy? An arc about the failures of Ruth Eastman? I have no clue. It doesn’t have to be just one of these things, but it shifted among all of them over the course of these eleven episodes with no rhyme or reason or follow-up, and that makes it hard to follow and harder to care.  

Alicia, Zach, and Peter sit in different corners of the bus in silence, until Alicia decides to stand up and move over to where Peter’s sitting. She smiles at him, then embraces him comfortingly.

Why does she do this? I’m not really sure! This is one of those cryptic looks everyone has their own take on (remember Diane in 4x13?) that we’ll probably never understand with any certainty, so I don’t want to make too much of it. I think it’s partially about Alicia feeling like it’s her duty to comfort Peter—he’s comforted her before—and partially about her wanting to show compassion for someone she cares about. I also think it’s about acceptance. Maybe not acceptance of this life, forever, but acceptance that this is the road she chose, and she can’t change the past. Instead of sulking and thinking about her own pain, she realizes she has to think about others. She can’t keep wearing sunglasses and blasting music and shutting out the world so she can fantasize; she has to make peace with her life.

This says nothing about her life going forward. Acceptance might also be the first step towards making a bigger change. Sharing such a private moment with Peter might startle her into reevaluating her life right now. I don’t know about that right now. All I know is that this ending to the episode—Alicia calm, in control, and accepting/aware of her life—makes the perfect conclusion to an episode in which Alicia’s withdrawn, furious, and angry about the road she took.

Overall, I did enjoy this episode. The LAL stuff was adequate, the Howard/Jackie stuff was surprisingly great, and the Alicia character development (especially in her scenes with Ruth) felt natural and emotional. But I wanted more from the episode. Specifically, I didn’t want the campaign trail nonsense to take up as much time as it did. This show likes to jam plots into an episode for drama, but it rarely needs to, and it especially doesn’t need to when the plots aren’t all that exciting. If they had reduced the size of the act on the floor of the caucus and replaced some of the campaign stuff with character-based scenes (Zach and Peter talking; Zach and Alicia talking; something inside Alicia’s mind), the episode would’ve been much better.

And tweak that plate scene just a teeny tiny bit.

[florrickandassociates]

TGW Thoughts: 7x10-- KSR

Thoughts on 7x10 under the cut!

“Bad timing” may be the two-word phrase most commonly used to describe the Alicia/Will dynamic, but I think another two-word phrase best captures their relationship: “What if?” For Will and Alicia both, the relationship exists (er, existed) in the realm of fantasy. Will always fantasized about how great life would be if he could be with Alicia, how their love transcends time (ever since Georgetown), how Alicia was the one for him, and, most darkly (and most memorably), who Alicia must’ve been all along to hurt him the way she did in season 5. Alicia’s fantasies were different: Will was the road not taken, the alternative, what could’ve been. She never tried to turn those fantasies into reality—it just wasn’t pragmatic. (Poetry is easy; it’s the parent-teacher conferences that are hard.)

The less Alicia had to think about reality, the more she could indulge in fantasy. Will never distinguished: fantasy Alicia was real Alicia to him. Alicia distinguished. If there was a real possibility of being with Will, the logistics of the relationship got under her skin. If she was going to really think about uprooting her life to be with him, then she had to consider all that would mean for her. Ending a marriage. Bringing the spotlight on her family again. Ruining Peter’s chances at rebuilding his career (which could make the kids resent her and make her some enemies). Lack of job security. Ridicule. No one ever taking her seriously because it would become obvious how she got the job. Dealing with the emotions of being in a new relationship right after ending a 15 year marriage. Trying to help the kids understand and cope. Navigating co-parenting. Too many risks to take for something—someone—so uncertain, too many things that mattered more than pursuing a chance at a dream life. So she never turned the fantasies into reality—and when she tried in season three, she only did so secretly, hesitantly, and half-heartedly. She never put in the necessary effort, and Will never stepped up or read her well enough to persuade her to let her guard down and try, to consider a real relationship. In the end, Alicia decided the fantasy wasn’t realistic.

In the time between season one and the affair in season three, however, Will looked damn appealing to Alicia. In season one, his interest in her was anxiety-provoking, something complicating work, something creeping into the space she wanted to build up as separate from the rest of her life. He looked longingly at her; she looked back anxiously. In season two, all she knew was that Will said to drop it, that maybe she was more interested in him than she’d realized, that maybe (definitely) she wanted to have sex with him, and (after she hears about the passionate voicemail in 2x08) that there’d been a missed opportunity. She looked longingly at him; he tried to move on. There was no reason to worry—what was done was done—so she started becoming more open to the idea of Will. Why not romanticize? Why not fantasize? Why not have an exceptional moment?

The season three break-up seemed to resolve that question. After the breakup, Alicia decides she was in love with “it”—the attention, the sex—and not Will. She knows it wasn’t a long-term thing. She tries to end things again and again when emotions and fantasies recur, and even leaves the firm, because she’s certain she doesn’t want to be with Will. The fantasy is just a fantasy. It can’t be reality.

But what if? What if it could’ve been reality? What if she made the wrong choices? What if it was love? What if soulmates existed, and Will was hers? What if she missed her chance? These are the thoughts that overtake Alicia after Will’s sudden death. He left her a voicemail—what did it say? What if it was angry? What if it was passionate and loving? She searches for some fact, any fact, that will enable her to believe what she wants to: that Will loved her until the moment he died, that he wanted to be with her, and only her, forever. She finds that fact when Finn tells her that he was angry with someone else, and uses it as grounds to indulge in fantasy. Will’s dead. What does it matter that she had good reasons not to be with him? He’s dead. She can never change her mind, never rectify her mistakes (even if they aren’t mistakes). Maybe it would’ve worked. Why was she so worried!? Why didn’t she try?! Why not fantasize? Now that she’s thinking of an imaginary choice in the past, it doesn’t make sense to obsess over details.

Alicia slowly lets go of that fantasy as she figures out what she wants to do with her life in season six. She moves on; she accepts that Will’s dead; she focuses on the future. When she imagines Will returning to comfort her in Mind’s Eye, she recognizes that the fantasy she’s constructed isn’t actually Will: he’s never talked like that before. It’s heartbreaking, but it’s also a step forward. She’ll never be completely over him, or stop loving him (in some sense of the word), but she’ll be okay, the wound will heal.

I don’t think the return of the voicemail is going to mark the return of Alicia’s fantasy life and romanticizing of Will. I think she’s moved forward enough not to go down the rabbit hole of fantasies again, though I wouldn’t be surprised if she indulged in a few—it would only be natural, and Eli didn’t give her enough specifics that she knows exactly what the voicemail said. Still, the voicemail is the ultimate fantasy: its disappearance enabled Alicia’s fantasies to continue for years, and its significance extends beyond the Alicia/Will relationship. At the moment her phone rang, Alicia was stepping into the spotlight, committing to playing Good Wife. This takes her all the way back to when things were simpler, when she could’ve made the choice to leave Peter/pursue Will with the fewest consequences. And Eli deleted it! It didn’t disappear. It wasn’t gobbled. It was deleted. By Eli. Alicia didn’t have all the facts, and she made decisions thinking she did. Her life could’ve been so different-- even if it probably wouldn’t have been, it could have been. The voicemail isn’t just the what-if of Will Gardner any more: now, it’s also the what-if of backing away from politics and controlling her personal life.

She still has the opportunity to do something about that what-if.

I promise this is actually a recap of KSR. You clicked on the right post.

KSR is an episode about fantasies. I’ll point this out again and again in the rest of this recap. It’s an episode about what it means to have fantasies, and what implications, if any, fantasies have for who we are as people and on our realities. Not coincidentally, it’s the episode where the voicemail returns after five and a half years, real time. Keep this theme, and its relation to the A/W relationship up to this point, in mind as you read my take on the episode.

(Most of the discussion above about A/W is so y’all know where I’m coming from as you read—it’s nothing I haven’t said before, but I don’t expect you to have memorized my posts from 2+ years ago. It’s also there because I thought it worked better in paragraph form than it would’ve in bullet point form embedded somewhere in the recap.)

Still with me? Good.

It’s early in the morning over at LAL. Sunlight streams in through the windows. It’s silent. The hallways are empty; the offices are empty. At first, it seems picturesque. But then we see that in the conference room, there are several identical iPhones lined up in a row, as if to signify that there should be people here, even at this hour. Confirming that something’s up, the camera begins to move. It pushes in on the phones, then twirls around so that the phones are being shot from overhead. One begins to ring. Cary’s phoning it. (Also, it’s 5:30 am on Tuesday, November 10th. Deep breaths. Don’t think about the timeline. Just take deep breaths.) His call goes to voicemail. (Bookending, amirite?)

In the elevator, casual clothes Cary (maybe he’s just gone for a run?) phones Brian (that’s Biff, of Biff and Skippy), thanking him for pulling an all-nighter and passing on some information about Ethan Carver’s next visit. He’s carrying a box of donuts for the hardworking team of associates… but they’re nowhere to be found.

Instead, Cary’s in an empty office, a place he’s used to seeing full of life and energy, alone. This time last year (and I mean precisely at this time last year, in the opening of 6x10), he was in another familiar space, the courthouse, alone, early in the morning. That scene had a very different feeling (though “calm before the storm” could describe both scenes), but I can’t help but think it’s intentional that two consecutive winter finales have kicked off with this type of imagery.

Cary worries when he sees the phones in the conference room—and that they ring when he calls them. Should you be curious, on Cary’s recent contacts list are: Brian, another associate, Diane a bunch of times, the LAL office number, Alicia, and Chinese takeout. No Lucca?! Hmmmmm.

“Where the hell is my defendant?!” the bond court judge (Schakowsky) demands, only he’s not in bond court and I don’t know why. Lots of people not showing up where they’re supposed to on this sunny Tuesday in Chicago. The defendant, Alicia explains, is in surgery. He’s a doctor. Schakowsky doesn’t buy it. At all. Alicia says surgery’s just running late; he’s one of the best surgeons in the country. Matan (also no longer sentenced to bond court; it’s cool how all these people switch positions when Alicia does seemingly because Alicia does) objects to this because the surgeon is also on trial for criminal conspiracy, and this surgery is only “going long” to remind the jury of how important the surgeon is. That doesn’t sound like an Alicia trick to pull (and deny so vehemently) but I know I’d be suspicious if I were on that jury…

Everyone at LAL is in a panic because all the associates are gone! Diane and David Lee talk over each other; Cary sits down staring off into space. They’re all wearing gray, which seems odd and intentional, and also like Alicia’s mind in 6x14, but I’m sure that’s not the reason for the color coordination.

“Can we talk about the idiots you hired?” David Lee asks Cary. Um. You voted in favor of them too. Cary points this out, and David Lee argues against it, but I can’t hear his defense. Good luck with that one, buddy.

“Typical Ivy League morons,” David Lee says. “Let ‘em in the door, they foment a rebellion.” Ivy League morons? I’d bet good money that David Lee either (a) attended an Ivy League school for both undergrad and law school or (b) intentionally selected an Ivy-caliber school that wasn’t an Ivy for the sole purpose of being able to brag about being better than the Ivies. Lyman thinks the problem is all young associates. So, let me get this straight: David, who wouldn’t hire Monica because she went to Loyola, now thinks students from Ivies can’t be trusted, and Howard Lyman just think the solution is to never hire young people. Seems practical. I would suggest changing management strategies so your people don’t leave a month after being hired, but what do I know? I’m just a millennial.

“All young associates are snakes,” Howard says. “And you wonder why they walked out,” Cary snarks. (I’m with you, Cary. That sort of attitude and of course they’re going to want to work somewhere different.) “You’re not seriously blaming us,” Diane shoots back. “They just wanted good work,” Cary explains. “Which we gave them!” Diane argues. “Grudgingly,” Cary points out. “And only because they were willing to bust their asses on a highly technical case.”

Cary knows where the associates are coming from—he’s an “Ivy League moron” who “fomented a rebellion,” after all—and thinks his partners are being ridiculous. Which they are. You can’t just pretend that someone else’s concerns are illegitimate and wait for them to disappear. The concerns will fester if you don’t address them, not disappear because you don’t share them. They really should listen to Cary on this one. There’s a reason he picked up on this potential problem weeks ago. Even though he holds a position of power (and did make some iffy hiring decisions), he’s dealing with the same thing the associates are, the same thing he tried to leave behind. His ideas are being ignored, and if this episode had ended in any way other than the way it did, I would’ve said that Diane and David should watch out and make sure Cary doesn’t bolt, too.

At first it seems like LAL hasn’t lost too much on the latest case for R.D. with all the associates walking out, but then Diane realizes something. “When you and Alicia stole our clients…” she begins. Not this again! But also, yay, mentions of this history again! “We didn’t steal your clients,” Cary clarifies, because this will never not be a point of contention. Diane asks if they purged ongoing work-product from the computers then, because maybe the associates did the same now. I don’t recall this happening since they left so fast, but okay.

Carver is waiting for Diane, asking her to explain an initialism (aren’t you proud of me for using the right term, Diane?), which he mistakenly calls an acronym. Is this whole discussion some sort of meta-commentary on the use of an initialism (I did it again! Please be my mentor, Diane!) as this episode’s title?

Unfortunately for Carver, and even more unfortunately for Diane and Cary, all the work-product is gone. “We need to talk, Cary,” Diane tries, but Cary’s not having it. “I am not falling on my sword for hiring people that everybody wanted…” he fights. “That’s not what this is about; you turned it into a generational fight,” Diane argues. “It is a generational fight!” Cary insists. “… Which blinded you to the fact that they played you. They played you, Cary,” Diane retorts. Didn’t they also play you? And didn’t they only play any of you because no one other than Cary was willing to hear them out? “No, you know what I see? You, David, Howard, and a half-dozen other partners froze the associates out,” Cary says, more accurately, though I think he is partially at fault for his hiring decisions. Anyway, Diane doesn’t want to argue about this anymore, she just says that Cary “needs to make this right. Now.” Oh? Why Cary? Because he’s the only one who built any bridges whatsoever? Huh, funny how that works. Funny how things are never Diane’s fault.

Meanwhile, Courtney has taken it upon herself to decorate Eli’s office. Eli doesn’t seem to like the massive painting she’s selected, but Courtney won’t hear it, and Eli changes the subject. “So, how are we? Are we good?” Courtney looks at him like she has no idea what he’s talking about. “It’s just… it’s weird to be dating a billionaire,” Eli explains. Courtney deflects, saying she’s not really a billionaire, just $185 million, here have a kiss. Then she has to go talk to Ruth.

Ruth tells Courtney she needs her help—the campaign has a Jason problem. Courtney catches on quickly (in part because Eli’s already prepped her). “Yes, Eli has a way of not wanting to face facts—at least not with Alicia,” Ruth explains. She’s spot-on about that—and she doesn’t need the qualifier. For what it’s worth, Ruth doesn’t think (or doesn’t let Courtney, who’s very traditional, think) Alicia and Jason are actually sleeping together. It’s just a fantasy Alicia’s not concealing well. Courtney wants to help.

Helping means hiring Jason at a super high rate to work for 2 months (until the first part of the campaign is over, I presume, though this would be easier to say for sure if the timeli—no no no no no) in California.

Cary gathers all of the former associates in a restaurant. They are all white men. Every. Single. One of them. I’ve been trying to avoid caring too much about the casting of extras in this plotline (FAL/LAL were pretty diverse in the past… and even earlier this season, there were women and people of color among the associates), but this seems like too much. Maybe all of those people were the summer interns we kept hearing about, and then they hired a crop of white dudes? Or more likely, it serves the plot better if they are all white dudes, so the casting call for this episode specified white dudes. I still don’t want to focus too much on this, because the bigger idea is that Cary tends to hire people that look and act like himself, which led to an army of mini-Carys getting pissed off when Diane and David Lee and Howard acted just like they did when they pissed Cary off years ago. I’m sold on that idea, just not on the visual of all of these white guys suddenly populating scenes.

The WGWLDs (White Guy With Law Degrees, my version of White Guy With Guitar—where are my American Idol fans at?) want to explain why they left; Cary wants his work product. They explain anyway: “We just… don’t want to be like you.” Sound familiar? They can’t give back the brief, anyway, because they never started it.

Cary asks if they’re starting their own firm. They’re not, because Cary told them “how hard that was.” That made me chuckle a little. They’re actually just going over to Team Canning, where I’m sure they’ll be treated well, having been poached as a group by a man who has no use for them and just has a vendetta against LAL and a lot of money.

After hearing this, Cary echoes David Lee, saying, “God, you are the devil spawn” and leaves.

The defendant is in court now (and so is Lucca). He’s still in scrubs. The judge revokes his bail because Alicia, Lucca, and the defendant chose “theatrics over [his] valuable time.” Dude, I am so sick of hearing about how valuable your time is. If you’re going to make decisions based on theatrics, and want to be seen as fair, you may at least want to explain why you’re so sure these are theatrics.

Alicia, whose hair is looking nice and not short this week, thinks this is all about her. A few scenes into the episode, and Alicia’s already going to the judge’s chambers to accuse him of bias. That escalated quickly.

Oh, damn, now the wig is looking bad. Schakowsky denies that he’s biased against Alicia because the defendant was accused of conspiring to rape one of the mothers of his patients. So… did he just say he’s biased against the defendant because of the nature of the crime in defense of the bias Alicia’s saying he has? Get this judge off the bench.

Alicia doesn’t respond. She stares blankly at Schakowsky, at the ground, and at the door. Then she pieces it together: “You were bribed, sir. The FBI targeted you for a bribe.” Schakowsky protests: he didn’t take it. But Alicia’s figured it out: “Because Eli Gold warned you.” “Get out of here,” Schakowsky commands. “Your Honor, all I’m asking for is fairness,” Alicia says, thinking that the message she’s transmitting is something other than, “I have intel against you that I will use if you don’t help me here.” (Oh, Alicia. At least you realized what Eli did with the information you told him in confidence!) (She didn’t know before, right?) (This has to have her thinking about Eli interfering with her life, right?)

We track Alicia as she exits the office and walks hurriedly through the halls of the courthouse, aaaaand… title credits.

The next act opens with the splash page for a fantasy site that Colin Sweeney would love. Actually, it’s so reminiscent of Sweeney stuff (combined, maybe, with the case from 2x22) I’m surprised Sweeney isn’t mentioned in this episode. He’d love this shit. And people would love talking about Alicia’s history defending Sweeney.

The defendant posted on this site—a picture of one of his patients’ mothers and what reads like an invitation to “KSR” her. As Matan and Detective Rodriguez (hello again!) explain this, Alicia makes a show of touching Portnow’s arm so he looks less threatening.

Welp, this scene takes “KSR” from a perplexing episode title to a horrifying initialism. My God. Why would Alicia even take this case?!

Alicia in glasses alert!

At LAL, all the partners have to actually do WORK! This isn’t anything out of the ordinary for Diane/David/Cary, who we see working often (maybe not this type of work, but work nonetheless), but Howard Lyman is working. He thinks it’s “fun.” Yes. Because he doesn’t have to do it ever and it’s novel.

Cary walks in with the news that there was no workproduct, the associates are going to Canning, and they need to get this brief done on their own in three and a half hours. That’s not going to be possible, because David Lee doesn’t even know what the technical drawing the case appears to be about is. And that, my friends, is why in real life, lawyers specialize in different areas of the law. (Didn’t David Lee have a specialty—family law—at one point? I know that’s no fun for a TV show and this case is supposed to show that everyone’s out of their element and trying to work together, but it’s a general problem this show has, too.)

Howard Lyman has connections to the judge, so they can get some “breathing room” on the filing deadline. Helpful Howard strikes again!

Alicia’s very… forceful… in court. Anyway, she takes down the detective’s seemingly airtight evidence by arguing it was all just a fantasy Portnow never had any intention of carrying out.

After court, Jason asks Alicia and Lucca how the case is going. Lucca says it’s “harder than it should be with someone who’s not guilty,” and now I understand (partially) why Alicia took the case. She’s defending a wealthy, high profile (uh, does the campaign have thoughts on this?) doctor who does tremendous amounts of good for the world. Surely other lawyers would take on his case, but with her experience with Sweeney and his case being a rather difficult one (morally) to defend, I can see how this case would get shopped to Alicia and she’d agree to take it on. Even at her new, more idealistic firm.

Alicia and Lucca task Jason with looking into the fantasy site. “Congratulations. There’s a lot of weird porn in your future,” Lucca says to Jason, patting him (I don’t know how to describe this gesture, but it’s very friendly, not intimate). This leaves Alicia and Jason alone to talk about Courtney.

When Jason mentions Courtney’s name, Alicia realizes what’s going on. Courtney wants him to leave town. And by “Courtney” Alicia means “Eli.” Jason’s going to take the offer because it’s too good to pass up.

Cut to Diane making a job offer to… Monica! Part of me is like, YAY MONICA! And part of me is like, that woman videotaped your interviews and put them online, are you sure you want to trust her? (But she did also bring them a case, a case that helped to undo the damage she caused, and work well with them in 7x09.)

Diane tells Monica it’s because they made a mistake the first time around and worked so well together on ChumHum, but Monica can tell what’s going on from a quick glance around. (Damn those glass walls! So convenient for plot!) She looks pointedly at the confusion going on in the conference room, then lists her demands: she won’t work for a lower rate than the other associates, and she needs 250 protected pro bono hours. That’s an awesome demand, I think, so team YAY MONICA! Wins out for me.

Court stuff happens. The case continues to be horrifying; Lucca gets some good dramatic lawyering material to work with.

“I dunno if I want to win this one,” Lucca tells Alicia over drinks later. “Why, ‘cause you think he did it? I mean, intended to do it?” Alicia asks.

“I don’t know,” Lucca responds. “But when you fantasize about something that much, I don’t think it makes a difference.” “Yet there are 50 children alive today because of him,” Alicia points out. “Yeah, and if we lose, there will be hundreds more who won’t live because he’ll be in prison,” Lucca adds.

“It’s odd—that someone could be so good, yet think things so bad,” Alicia reflects. “It’s people,” Lucca argues. “They’re all scum.” Alicia nearly spits out her drink at that. Lucca’s very set in her worldview—and interested in explaining, discussing, and debating it (even if what she says and believes sounds Kalinda-esque, you could never put this dialogue in Kalinda’s mouth, and if you tried, it would come out sounding like something completely different. At any rate, what Lucca’s doing here showing that what Alicia sees as a specific incidence of good and evil co-existing in a person is more (in her view) about human nature. Everyone has fantasies and bad thoughts that seem to contradict their actions. No one—not the best of us and not the worst of us—lacks good qualities, and no one lacks bad qualities. Dr. Portnow is an extreme—which is why Lucca isn’t sure if she wants to win his case—but it’s not as odd as Alicia thinks that good and evil exist in one person.  (Which, of course, means that this terrifying case suddenly forces us, and Alicia, to reflect on the meaning of more mundane fantasies. Do they matter? If you think about cheating enough, or sleeping with someone enough, do you have to actually follow through to cause damage?)

“Damaged much?” Alicia retorts. “No, observant,” Lucca clarifies. “Don’t expect anything of anybody, and you’ll never be disappointed.” (Kalinda would agree with that. Not coincidentally, she makes a great example of why this worldview doesn’t work out so well in reality.) “That’s a sad way to live,” Alicia responds. Lucca’s is a conclusion someone with Alicia’s life experiences could very easily draw, yet she doesn’t. Alicia continues to trust and expect things of people.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Lucca reasons. “You and I are just sitting here, having a pleasant drink. But I don’t expect anything of you, and you don’t expect anything of me.” (Uh, aren’t you guys business partners? How is that not expecting anything off each other?)

“Still, I’m not gonna kill you,” Alicia points out. “Not yet, anyway,” Lucca jokes. And then Sparky arrives, interrupting what was an interesting conversation I would’ve liked to see more of (but didn’t need to see more of).

Sparky has good news: there haven’t been past crimes linked to the website. “But?” Alicia asks, knowing how Jason likes to reveal information. (Little things like this—this “but?” thing has been in a few other episodes and shows Alicia being observant and playful and understanding how Jason communicates—will be helpful if the writers do take Alicia and Jason in a more serious direction. They won’t be enough, but at least they’re there.) There is, as always, a “but.”

Jason wants to talk to Alicia, alone, about the Courtney thing. (I’m assuming Lucca isn’t consulted because the Courtney thing is very obviously not just about work.) (Indeed, we get a shot of Lucca eyeing them as they walk across the bar, making it clear that Lucca thinks this is out of the ordinary.)

Sparky is leaving! For California! Tomorrow! “Will you call me?” Alicia asks, meaning when he gets back, but he misinterprets it (intentionally?) and Alicia clarifies awkwardly. Jason agrees. Alicia shifts the conversation so it’s friendlier and less work related, asking if Jason’s spent much time in Northern California. He makes a joke about the culture of the area, and Alicia laughs, then looks at him. It’s cute, a little flirty. She seems interested in him, mostly sexually but I don’t know, maybe you can read more into that look. (To be clear, I don’t. But I fear the writers might start trying to set up Alicia and Jason as a romantic pairing, and I’m looking for any signs of things that could suggest a curiosity or the earliest stages of a more-than-physical-attraction type of crush.) (Really, my biggest problems with an Alicia/Jason endgame would be: (1) Endgame cannot be what Alicia’s story is about, it just can’t be. And this would be much too fast. (2) All of this mysterious violent Sparky stuff is over the top and I don’t want it anywhere near Alicia. It doesn’t endear me to Jason; it makes me roll my eyes. I would rather get to know Jason than see supposedly intriguing scenes involving crow bars and files on Alicia, especially if I’m ever going to have to discuss him as a love interest. Again, I don’t think this is where the show’s going, but I want to say it here while I’m thinking of it and before I know where the show will end up.)

Alicia watches Jason walk out of the bar and across the street. She’s not devastated or obviously emotional, so my guess is she’s indulging in a little bit of fantasy. She might also be thinking about the case—that’s just as likely.

LAL is almost empty again, but now it’s nighttime. Monica walks through the hallways, into a conference room where everyone’s hard at work. Monica answers questions for all three partners, proving that she’s a good worker and valuable employee. Cary offers to let her take a nap, but she wants to keep working. (Howard, on the other hand, is taking a nap, thankfully with his pants on.)

Cary and Diane realize they’re still not going to make the deadline, and Cary leaves the room. He has a plan!

Court stuff happens. Lucca’s great, but there’s not really much else to be said unless I want to get into the details of the case, which I really, really, really do not.

Eli catches Jason leaving Alicia’s apartment. He knows nothing of the Northern California plot. Jason asks Eli to tell Alicia he left something for her. Eli agrees, and then frantically decides to go through all of Alicia’s things. Remember last week, Eli, when it was SO BAD!!! that Jason had a file on Alicia? So! Bad!? Look at what you’re doing.

Courtney interrupts his spying, and they make plans to meet later. (She says 8:15, he says 8:16 to “demonstrate his independence.”)

The spying comes to an end because Alicia’s back. She talks coldly but calmly to Eli, and instantly spots what Jason left for her, which turns out to be a (case related!) book called “Unhealthy Obsessions: Why Smart Women Make Bad Decisions.” I feel like there’s supposed to be some sort of double meaning here, but I don’t see it and I’m not going to bend over backwards to make it fit. Eli wants to talk about Jackie and Howard; Alicia’s more interested in reading the post-it note Jason left her, instructing her to use Portnow’s wife on the stand. Of course Alicia found what Jason left instantly. It’s in her office. And of course it’s innocent: Eli doesn’t have a clear read on this situation. (Keep this in mind.)

Eli asks about Jackie and Howard again, and then Alicia snaps. “I don’t give a single damn. Why are you in my life, Eli?” “Why am I…?” Eli asks, confused. (I’d give him credit for being innocent in this case, but he was literally just rummaging through the confidential files in her desk in order to find out information about her personal life.) (Okay, I do give him some credit for being innocent in this case.) “Yes, why are you telling my investigator to go move to Silicon Valley?” Alicia follows up. “I didn’t!” Eli insists. “Why are you letting your paranoia rule my business? No, seriously. Eli, I have been very fluid with the line between your needs and mine, but we’re done. He’s going to work for Courtney Paige. I can’t find a good investigator in the same price range, and I probably won’t be able to afford him when he gets back. And what business of yours is it what I’m doing with my personal life? My life is my life, and I want you to back the hell up!” Alicia yells over Eli’s protests. “I wasn’t sleeping with Jason. But even if I was, that’s my business.”

“It wasn’t me,” Eli tries to explain. He tries to blame Ruth—who really is to blame here—but Alicia won’t hear it. She asks him to leave, at least in part because she has a client.

The client is Portnow’s wife, the one who wrote the book Jason left for Alicia, so it’s very unclear to me what his note was supposed to help her with. Whatever. Case stuff.

Alicia doesn’t care who is responsible: she knows it’s coming from the campaign, and now she doesn’t have an investigator and can’t get work done. Now the campaign’s fucking with her professional life, too. And we all know how much Alicia hates it when things permeate the boundaries she believes she has.

Cary sits down with the associates again and offers them their jobs back with an excellent deal. Because the last Cary scene ends with his desperation to find more workers, the first time through, I thought Cary was making a terrible business decision.

Portnow’s wife won’t make the best witness. She’s very intelligent, but also sounds too clinical for a jury to relate to. She talks about how her husband is able to compartmentalize by using horrifying internet fantasies as an outlet so that his darker impulses don’t have any real consequences. Lucca tries nicely to tell her to be warmer, and Alicia bluntly tells the wife she seems cold. (Which is a word Alicia’s very familiar with being called.)

She asks Portnow’s wife to act how she would at home with her husband. Apparently, it’s no different than the way she’s acting now. What interests me most here is that for Alicia to say this, she must sense a difference in her own behaviors at home and at work. It’s a common thing to say “act how you would around your husband,” but for Alicia to say it suggests that Alicia believes the distinction is valid.

Lucca’s suggestion is to “put the good doctor on the stand” instead of the wife, and I’m pretty sure that somehow this show just managed to compare Good Wife Alicia to Good Doctor Portnow and his KSR fantasies. Congratulations, show. I think that might be the strangest parallel you’ve ever done. (Yeah, I know “good doctor” is a thing people say. But this usage doesn’t seem like a coincidence.) Alicia compartmentalizes, tries to prevent the areas of her life from spilling into one another. She fantasizes, and worries about what her fantasies might mean for reality. She wanted to sleep with Will in season two but never did, but is Peter totally wrong in In Sickness when he says there’ve been three people in the marriage for the last two years? Wrong to bring it up then, yes. Wrong to say it’s affected their marriage, probably not. And now she’s fantasizing about Jason (maybe)—does that matter? Even if she doesn’t plan to act on fantasies, can she be made to look guilty for giving off any sign that she might act on them? Do Eli and Ruth’s fantasies (or nightmares) about Alicia sleeping with Jason matter? Am I losing sight of my point now? Should I stop? Moving on…

A brief summary about my thoughts on Eli and Courtney in bed together: THANK GOD IT’S NOT STACIE HALL.

Courtney leaves quickly to get to work. I see no chemistry whatsoever between these two, which is a shame, because I think the writing for this relationship (Eli falls quickly and deeply for a woman who’s way out of even his league, remembers what it’s like to feel like this, has his fantasy abruptly shattered when he realizes he put more into the relationship than Courtney ever was going to) isn’t bad but the acting just isn’t landing. I see what the trajectory of Eli/Courtney’s relationship is, I just don’t see anything that makes it convincing, let alone compelling.

Courtney is ALSO going to Northern California (which I’m sure doesn’t make Eli think of Alicia’s shot at ~love~ with Jason at all), and she makes it clear that she’s had fun with Eli, but that’s all. She tries to let him down gently, but he’s been the one in her position enough times to understand what’s happening. It’s over for him, and it’s over for Alicia, and he should’ve seen it coming.

Eli leaves the hotel room and stares down the empty hallway. He turns around, desperate for a do-over. The door’s locked behind him, so he knocks, and Courtney opens the door slightly. “Look, I’m in the heat of a political campaign, and normally all I’d be thinking about is tracking polls and spot media, but right now, I don’t give a damn about any of it. I don’t know what this is, but I like it. I think you’re perfect. For me. So please don’t go. Or go. But come back. Soon,” he pleads. That’s his fantasy—that Courtney will change her mind when he says that. It’s not that unrealistic of a fantasy, even if his enthusiasm (“you’re perfect for me”???) feels a bit Will-esque; Eli wants a good thing to continue and go farther. But Courtney isn’t open to changing her mind (nor should she be). Business is her priority, even if she “loved every moment of our being together.” She kisses him goodbye and closes the door on him.

Eli walks down the hallway, trying to hold himself together. HMMMMM, WHERE HAVE I SEEN THIS BEFORE? (2x20!!! 3x10!!! 4x22!!!) I don’t know why there’s a parallel to Alicia here—honestly, it’s probably just that this is the show’s visual language or hallways are transition spaces (like how not every elevator scene is a Willicia parallel) something boring like that—but I’ll go with Eli feeling a strong connection to the Alicias of the past (like how the directing in 6x14 with Kalinda and Peter recalls Kalinda in 3x22 for the sake of the viewer, since Alicia wouldn’t know to imagine that), and maybe projecting that on to the Alicia of the present. Ideas?

Something in court goes well for Alicia and Lucca because the judge rules in their favor.

Living out their fantasy of making huge amounts of money at a young age, Cary’s posse of WGWLDs steps off the elevator and into LAL. The fantasy doesn’t last. Cary summarizes the firm’s court strategy, then abruptly stops and says, “Actually, come to think of it, we don’t want your help. You’re all fired.” Diane’s standing on the other side of the hallway now, playing along with Cary’s game. They’ve now conflicted the associates out of helping Canning with the case, so they probably don’t have jobs there anymore. They’ll get their $80,000 signing bonuses, but a bad rep (I presume the threat is if they cash them, they’ll get a bad rep, but maybe just in general they will, but here’s $80,000 for your trouble) that will haunt their careers. Brian tells Cary to go to hell, and Cary calls the security guards over. Hehe. Role reversal!

Then something truly amazing happens: Diane walks over to where Cary’s standing. They watch the associates leave, standing in a positions that demand a high five like the Diane and Will one in season two to happen. “God, that was fun,” Diane says as the elevator doors close on the associates, and THEY ACTUALLY HIGH FIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It’s fantastic!

It’s also meaningful, because it shows Cary and Diane as partners. In season 6, Cary didn’t want to work with Diane, and the current configuration of LAL partners isn’t what Cary sought out initially. He could’ve left, or he could’ve made it work, and he chooses to make it work. This episode starts out with Cary at odds with the other partners, taking the side of the associates. Later, he’s agreeing with David Lee—the associates are “devil spawn”—and working with Diane to play them. Now, he ends up high fiving Diane in an almost Will-like move. Who knew the “New Will and Diane” would end up just being Cary and Diane?

It makes a lot of sense that once they stopped resenting each other and got over the old grudges, they’d work well together as partners. I’ve always said that Diane and Cary were a lot alike, and Diane’s always taken an interest in Cary’s career and liked working with him. Since this is a Hitting the Fan situation that brings Cary and Diane together, I think this counts as moving on from the past. That’s not to say it will be smooth sailing from here on out—they’re still going to clash on things, I’m sure—but I’m optimistically hoping that Cary will learn that he doesn’t just need to hire younger versions of himself, while Diane will learn that if Cary points out a problem early on, she should listen, because he knows what he’s talking about and is capable of making management decisions.

The jury finds Portnow guilty, but the verdict doesn’t stick. (It only lasts as long as the commercial break.) Schakowsky vacates the jury’s verdict. Plot twist!

This sends Alicia into her “I won, but I feel bad about it, so I need to have a useless conversation with someone that’s probably a bad idea” mode, which she should really think about learning to control because nothing good will ever come of it. She goes to Schakowsky’s chambers asking if she and Lucca earned their win. Do you think this is a mock trial, Alicia? What are you doing? In what world would he say no? He just wants a thank you, and it’s at that moment Alicia realizes she accidentally blackmailed a judge. (She doesn’t say thank you.)

Eli is listening to a voicemail (…) from Courtney on repeat. Awww. Poor thing.

Cut to Alicia, mixing herself another margarita (what’s going on with this?! It makes me feel uneasy because I can’t tell if it’s a quirk I’m supposed to embrace or a portent of bad times, or an alcoholism plotline, to come.) Alone, she drinks away the stress of accidentally blackmailing a judge, but her reprieve doesn’t last long because Eli’s at the door.

“I know. I’m packing for Iowa now,” she says when she opens the door, trying to anticipate what Eli’s going to criticize her about this time. (Packing for Iowa!!!! Eeee!!)

“No. I’m sorry,” Eli says. “Eli, can we do this…” Alicia interrupts, just wanting to be alone. “I had no idea they were sending Jason out of town,” he explains. “Okay,” Alicia accepts. “And I know I have been too involved in your private matters,” Eli continues. “Okay, Eli. You’re forgiven. I have to go pack. Goodnight,” Alicia dismisses him briskly (but not angrily). He knocks on the door again, and Alicia turns around and lets him in.

Next thing we know, Alicia and Eli are sitting together at the dining room table, drinking. “You seem more upset than I do,” Alicia observes. And this is key—Alicia is not upset about not having Jason in her life for two months. She’s wallowing a bit, but she has plenty of other things to wallow about, like accidentally blackmailing a judge and a political campaign trying to control her personal and professional lives. She’s angry that she’s out an investigator, but not preoccupied by Jason’s decision to leave. That’s all—or mostly—Eli’s projection. “I started to care about someone,” Eli explains. The scene doesn’t give us full context for this line, but it sounds like he’s saying he’s upset on Alicia’s behalf because he knows what it’s like.

Recognizing that this moment is more about Eli than about her, Alicia asks if Eli’s talking about Courtney. He nods. “I don’t care about a lot of people. Too much work. I mean… too much work to make it… work. But I thought, ‘This isn’t so bad. With her. I could get used to this,’” Eli confides. “Then do. Be happy, Eli,” Alicia encourages. (I compared Eli to Will before, but this is the biggest difference. Eli knows that a relationship takes work. His fervor is equal to Will’s, but he’s still a very different person.)

But Eli can’t be happy with Courtney, because Courtney doesn’t want to be with him. She wants to go to California and work. Eli understands, but it sucks. “I’m sorry, Eli,” Alicia offers. “You’re nice to me,” Eli responds. “No, just listening,” Alicia says. (She’s doing more than she thinks.)

Eli hesitates, then: “I’m sorry Jason was sent away.” Not this again! “Eli,” Alicia warns. “He’s my investigator, that’s all.” (She means it.) “I know,” Eli says. “Yeah, I know.” (No, you don’t.)

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this, Alicia, but I think you should be happy. Call Jason,” Eli says, assuming that those two statements are linked because his love is also California bound. I believe that Eli wants Alicia to be happy, but I also think Eli wants to believe he can prevent Alicia from being unhappy to compensate for his own unhappiness.

Alicia laughs. “I’m okay, Eli,” she repeats. This is, what, the fifth time this episode she’s said something to this effect?

“I don’t want to be in the way,” Eli insists, again. “You’re not. He was my investigator,” Alicia says, but Eli believes strongly that Alicia’s in denial or something (listen to the words coming out of her mouth, Eli!) and tries yet again. “Don’t let the campaign get in your way.” “Okay, Eli, I’m fine,” Alicia says, yet again. Six, seven.

Eli pauses, and the camera pushes in on his face. Alicia’s not seeing it! Alicia’s not seeing how he’s keeping her from her own happiness! He has to prove to her that he really is standing in the way! “Six years ago, you got a message from Will Gardner, a voicemail, and I erased it,” Eli blurts out. Who is this going to help now, Eli!? Aaaaargh. I never thought I’d hear about the voicemail again on the show. But really: who does this help? I believe that Eli genuinely thinks this will help Alicia, that this will be the push to make her realize she wants to be with Jason, but he’s not listening to her at all. He wants to help her by assuaging his own guilt. He’s projected something onto her and refuses to be corrected, and tells her damaging and emotional information basically to make himself feel better. Oh, Eli. (Remember earlier when I said to keep in mind that Eli assumed Jason’s gift would be something illicit he hid in a secret spot in Alicia’s desk, but it was really just a case related post-it note in a book left out in plain sight? Eli’s perspective here is not to be trusted. Has he ever even seen Alicia and Jason together?)

Alicia looks up in shock. “You were about to go onstage and stand beside Peter for his SA run, and I didn’t want to hurt that. I listened to the voicemail. Will said he loved you and would give up everything to be with you,” Eli recaps. (He’s wrong about the voicemail’s contents: that’s not what Will said. But it doesn’t matter now, does it? It can be whatever Alicia wants or needs it to be. Even the ridiculous “My plan is I love you”—a poetic response to Alicia’s plea for a plan over poetry—would sound romantic when revealed years later, even though in the moment, if Alicia had heard it, it would’ve struck her as immature.)

Alicia stares at Eli, breathing heavily, saying nothing, tearing up. “And I erased it. I never let you hear it. And I’ve been sick about it ever since,” Eli confesses. I would’ve left off that last line. I’m sure that when you’re pouring your heart out, it feels that way—and it’s not untrue; look at how Eli respects Alicia’s privacy in 2x20 when the DNC won’t—, but when you’ve spent five years after that moment manipulating someone and being called out on it, it kiiiiiiiinda doesn’t come off that genuine.  

“And I don’t want to stand in the way of your happiness again. That’s why I’m sorry,” Eli concludes. (Okay but the reason Alicia wasn’t listening to you before was that she didn’t want to call Jason and profess her love, not that she didn’t understand that you’ve been standing in the way of her happiness. I think she got that part.) (Don’t get me wrong, it’s tremendously heartfelt and Eli says it with genuine concern for Alicia. But his perspective’s too clouded to realize he’s doing a lot of harm and very little good.) (Though, there may be some good that comes out of this in the long term. Y’all remember my catalyst theory? Alicia doesn’t realize there are big decisions she needs to make until something happens, and then suddenly everything she’s been feeling makes sense, and she’s able to make a big decision? This could easily be a catalyst.)

Alicia leans into the camera, looking like a wild animal on the prowl. She stares directly at Eli, and then we see what it is she’s doing: taking away his glass. He’s no longer a guest. “Get out,” she whispers forcefully.

It’s hard to praise the return of the voicemail without knowing, exactly, what will come of it. I presume this is an excuse to motivate Alicia to think about her privacy in a clear, direct, and dramatic way. Assuming that’s where the writers are taking this—as something to excite the audience, infuse the show with some juicy drama, and move the plot forward in a necessary way—then I’m totally on board. I don’t know what else could’ve played this function. I wouldn’t have believed it if Alicia started feeling conflicted about her desire to sleep with Jason (because we already saw that with Johnny), and I would have believed it even less if Alicia wanted a relationship with Jason and started thinking of divorcing her husband of 22 years for a man she met two months ago. Any other interference would’ve felt staged. We’d be asking if Eli would really do x, y, or z, and if the campaign had done it without Eli’s help, then Alicia’s takeaway probably would’ve been more about Eli needing control than about the campaign being bothersome. What would work better than the voicemail to upset the balance? It’s an exciting twist (though not that exiting, CBS promo team) that plays into the series’ history and (hopefully) uses it to move forward. 

There might’ve been other ways to get to this point—actually, forget “might have been,” because there definitely were—, but I think the return of the voicemail efficiently accomplishes a LOT for the show, and they’ve been building the privacy/politics tension for the whole series, but especially these past few episodes leading up to the voicemail reveal.

I was kind of hoping Alicia would put the pieces together herself because Eli crossed the line too much, but if they’re not writing an Eli morphs into a reckless supervillain arc that leads to his immediate exit from the show, it makes more sense to have Eli reveal it. If Alicia pieces it together, she’ll be furious because of the lie and maybe not as caught off-guard by the revelation. I don’t think Eli could come back from Alicia putting it together herself, but I think he can be redeemed (in Alicia’s eyes) for deleting the voicemail because he told her about it.  I know Alicia can be stubborn and unforgiving, but honesty greatly improves Eli’s odds at getting back into her good graces eventually.

I wanted to talk more about fantasy than I did in this recap. The episode hammers home the idea that we can be good and bad simultaneously, that our thoughts and intentions may affect our reality even when we don’t act on them, and that we can dream big and not get what we want (that’s the theme for the associates, but also for Cary, who watches his rebellion fantasy morph into his alliance with the very people he tried to rebel against). Really, the idea in all of these is that fantasy isn’t meaningless. We act based on what we imagine, or use fantasies to cope with stress, or become conflicted over our thoughts. 

What will the fantasies explored, dashed, and revived in this episode mean for our beloved characters in the future? We’ll find out... after hiatus. (Does this even count as a hiatus?)