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Kalinda starts the day tailing Damian Boyle, a job that ends suddenly -- after an amazing car chase that starts with a bright white 100 mph in honor of the episode -- at the doors of Florrick/Agos. David Lee has dispatched Boyle to get Alicia's signoff on her exit contract at the old firm. But between his twitchy evilness, Alicia's quick thinking, and some ace moves from Clarke Hayden, it's quickly uncovered that Matthew Ashbaugh -- our beloved John Noble-played eccentric -- has left Alicia a solid twelve million.
What you might think would be a replay of LG aggression and bitchiness turns into something radically other, though, almost immediately. They do jump in to represent Matthew's widow in contesting the will, and it's partially because of what it would mean to Sweet F/A, but the only LG partner that plays into the story meaningfully is, of course, Will Gardner. Seems he's not the only one who associates Ashbaugh with their passionate affair, and so we get some sexy flashbacks even in the midst of the ugliness.
And it is ugly. In a bravura -- even by Season Five standards -- performance, Will dives deep into his crazy, imagining a cross-examination of a (white-garbed) Alicia Florrick about exactly how much she knew about Matthew's feelings for her, how willing she was to use them, and how much of a manipulative bitch he needs her to admit she is. It's dark, it's sad, and it is very, very beautiful... Not to mention one of the most experimental turns the show's ever taken, and certainly the best executed.
In the end, it amounts to nil: While Will is a godlike litigator, Alicia's still the smartest person on the show, so she gives him just enough rope in his attempted blindside to express his rage fully, and on record, before cleverly turning the semantic tables at the last second. The details aren't really important for tonight, but it's masterful work on both their parts, and by the time four more romantic-gesture wills turn up and the whole thing's moot, Will's been given enough closure that they're both back to at least that chilly tenderness we saw during the original schism five episodes ago.
As for Kalinda, her hot pursuit of Boyle continues, on into some delightful flirtation and a random hookup with a cop of Boyle's acquaintance, the charming Jordana Spiro, in a continuing storyline that seems to be pointing toward an intersection of the Kalinda stories that have worked best in the past: Hot chick detective lover, triangulated against a sketchy smooth-talking love interest, in what hopefully will end in massive fireworks.
What else? Marilyn sucks, of course. Jackie's still on an insanely effective mean-girl campaign against the world, this time using Alicia's highly compromised invite to the F/A holiday party as a way of fucking with Veronica Loy, who is coming ever more undone.
The party proves a neat catch-all for all the tertiary and guest characters, actually: Eli's concern that Peter will attend and run into no-show Colin Sweeney, which Marilyn ignores, ends up blossoming insanely when Team Gov, Donna Brazile and Lemond Bishop all show up instead. It's mostly effective as a way of seeing Alicia deal under pressure, but the episode's cheeky last shot -- Eli's spit-take as Marilyn admits she's thinking of naming her unborn son "Peter" -- is worth the entire hour of low-key, stressful setup.
It's always lovely to see Matthew Ashbaugh, whose existence critiques Alicia's in a way nobody -- not Eli, not Colin; not even Will -- can quite get to. And of course, MVP goes to Will for turning that effect into a raw exploration of his own sense of betrayal and heartbreak after F/A. What is, and continues to be, intriguing is our confirmation that Will still has no idea whatsoever why any of this has happened, which is a great reason to turn into a feral animal. The titular "decision tree," in fact, comes to us as he's planning out his drunken attack for the cross-examination: All the things she might say, all the ways he can hurt her, all the ways he can spook her into finally revealing herself. It's incredibly effective.
While at the time it seemed awful to have Owen Cavanaugh explain the Will-adjacent reasons for Alicia leaving so openly, in retrospect it's helped provide a stronger picture of Will's incapacity to fathom her reasons for doing anything. Including a rooftop fuck two years ago in which she whispered, "This is the happiest I've ever been in my life." What still echoes there isn't that she wasn't telling the truth, of course, but that she was -- and was correct in saying so -- and that's something she'll never be able to explain to him, and thus something he'll never know. Bad timing strikes again, and in the oddest and most terrible places.
Year: No idea whatsoever, but it's the halfway point of the season so I would expect at least a couple high-profile reversals. Just cross your fingers none of them involve Marilyn fucking Garbanza.
Want more? The full recap starts right below!PREVIOUSLY
LG, née Lockhart/Gardner, is taking over the map! And doing this by any desperate means necessary, now that the roguish vitality lent its name partners by the events of five episodes ago. That means iffy associates -- like the formerly firmless Damian Doyle -- and even iffier practices, as taskgroups work to alienate Florrick/Agos's clients and find bigger, scarier ones of their own. Governor-Elect Peter Florrick's upcoming inauguration is overshadowed by Eli's secret wars against First Mother Jackie and Ethics Queen Marilyn Garbanza, but now that Sweet F/A has some scruffy offices to call home, Alicia's staying out of it (unless it helps her out).
100 (MPH)
Kalinda, to the sound of holy choirs, guns her engine through the streets, following a very savvy Damian as instructed by Diane during his accelerated hiring process. We don't really see him during this chase, grinning his mad Irish grin, but rest assured he knows what's happening. Imagine his delight, then, when she comes careening around a corner to find him dashing across the street... To the former t-shirt factory that is now home to Sweet F/A itself.
Kalinda: "Damian's doing something weird."
Diane: "What else is new. What crime family is it this time?"
Kalinda: "Not the Gerraghtys. As far as I can tell he's done with them..."
Diane: "So then who? What hive of villainous scum is he..."
Kalinda: "It's that law firm we don't talk about."
Diane: "Do you think he's jumping ship? You know how those dicks are."
Kalinda: "I'll stay on it."
Will: "Diane! Diane Diane Diane! New York City is nearly a go!"
Diane: "Yes, it's very exciting. You know where your boy Damian is right now?"
Will: "My 'boy'? I think you mean 'our newest partner,' or possibly 'Will's latest fantastic idea.'"
Diane: "Well, right now he's fantastically chilling at that law firm we don't talk about."
Will: "He's probably just doing some David Lee mind games bullshit to prove his worth. He's kind of like a housecat that brings you mouse heads, have you noticed that?"
Diane: "Yeah or like tiny mouse furniture."
SWEET F/A
Damian: "I have arrived! Not to steal your mouse furniture but to practice law!"
Alicia: "No. Get out of here. I hate you, and I hate that you've usurped my #1 MOM status with your strange Gaelic magic. My meeting is with David Lee."
Damian: "Are you seriously saying you'd prefer to be in a meeting with David Fucking Lee right now?"
Alicia: "Good point. What do you want. And is it a punch in the nose."
Damian: "I come bringing glad tidings and hundreds of thousands of dollars! Here's your capital contribution back, from when you had my job."
Alicia: "What's the catch?"
Damian: "Nothing, just sign this exit contract. IN BLOOD."
She tosses him a ball to play with, literally a bouncy ball to play with, and takes the contract immediately to sweet Clarke Hayden to see if he can smell any sulfur on it.
Alicia: "Why is everybody fighting? At this particular moment, I mean."
Cary: "Holiday party."
Alicia: "Oh okay, I don't care about that."
Cary: "Just pretend you do. Robyn Burdine?"
Robyn Burdine: "We sent out 800 invitations..."
Alicia: "How much did that cost?"
Robyn Burdine: "...And gotten 30 yeses. Guess what law firm we don't talk about bitchily scheduled theirs for the same night? That is so Llllll...aw firm we don't talk about."
Cary: "So about your famous husband..."
Alicia: "I can't do this every episode. I'm not Kalinda. I don't have her strength. I will ask him but I warn you..."
Cary: "-- You'll say as few words as possible and trust him to fill in the blanks?"
Alicia: (A very knowing look that says exactly this, like you are psychic.)
Clarke: "Who's Matthew Ashbaugh?"
Alicia: "Like pretty much the best fucking thing that ever happened on this show. Why?"
Clarke: "But I mean like who is he."
Alicia: "Just a client. Just this emotionally pivotal, symbolically integral client that told you more about my character in one episode than four seasons of this very subtle show."
She fades out to the Bach, coming out of the speaker like it used to -- the one she takes with her everywhere, now -- and remembering his beautiful smile and his crazy Australian Michael Caine way of speaking: "You can't get rid of me, Alicia. I'm always here..."
Alicia: "PS, he's dead. Not sure if he still has cases open."
Clarke: "Well, this contract is very specifically trying to wall you off from him."
Alicia: "That's weird. I'd assume Will would think of him the same way I do, as the pretext around which we wound our entire love affair. Is nothing sacred?"
Lila Ashbaugh: "Who this?"
Alicia: "It's ya girl Alicia Florrick!"
Lila Ashbaugh: "Lose my number, whore. You're not getting any money."
JS BACH
Matthew: "You're not getting paid enough, Alicia."
Alicia: "Oh yeah? Tell your friend Will that."
Matthew: "My friend? Is that some weird Americanism?"
Alicia: "It means like chum or buddy."
Matthew: "Are we not talking about my estate? My last will and testament?"
Alicia: "I am really confused. Can we not turn down the constant insane music in here?"
Matthew: "And give the NSA a respite? If it's driving you crazy, think about what it's doing to them?"
(Gabe: "Motherfucker listens to a lot of classical. Pass me those Cheetos.")
SWEET F/A
Alicia: "Something to do with his estate, I think..."
Clarke: "That makes sense because of the way they did it. You should get all up in it with this guy."
Alicia, wonderfully: "Robyn, do me a favor. You see that man over there? Ask him if you can record the negotiations. Tell him you made a mistake, and you were supposed to do it from the beginning, and I'm very mad at you."
Robyn Burdine: "I love to pretend! Robyn Burdine!"
Alicia: "Peter, quickly. I have to fight an Irishman. Everything okay?"
Peter: "No! Why didn't you invite me to your party on Friday until just now?"
Alicia: "I did no such thing, um, because I don't want to impose. Who defied me?"
Peter: "It was just an evite. That's not the same as a..."
Alicia: "WHO DEFIED ME."
GOV OFC
Peter: "Anyway, I'm taking Jackie to dinner on Friday, so it's tricky."
Alicia: "That is the opposite of tricky! You take that old bitch out, treat her real nice."
Peter: "Can I bring her along? She does love being awful at parties, and..."
Alicia: "Whatever. Just don't make me call her."
Peter: "She thinks you don't like her!"
They both laugh, because who could ever like her: She is the fucking worst. Not laughing, though, is Eli Gold -- hidden behind a teacup in Peter's office -- who loves listening to private conversations almost as much as he hates the shit out of fun stuff.
Eli: "You need to look at the guest list before you go to any party."
Peter: "That's nice if you were teaching me to be a snotty basic bitch, but in fact you are instructing me on how to be married to my wife."
Eli: "Alicia has plenty of clients you don't want to be photographed with. This is my actual goddamn job, I'm not just being Eli about it."
Peter: "And you're great at your job, but I'm going to this party. She needs to believe that I believe in her, so she'll believe back in me. You've only ever been married to Parker Posey's crazy ass, you have no concept of marital realpolitik."
SWEET F/A
Against my better judgment, I kind of adore Damian Doyle. Like right now, he's tossing that ball against the wall and catching it, in such a way that it's nowhere near the receptionist's actual head but somehow does make the whole thing seem fraught with danger, like, just by using this ball for its intended purpose it somehow becomes a coded indictment of their shitty office space/operation. Here we have the kind of place you can bounce a ball and nobody will even yell at you, he's saying. Try that shit with Diane Lockhart and you'll be swallowing teeth.
Alicia: "Okay so I just have a few questions. I get my capital contribution, right, when I sign this? And it has no impact on any profit participation earned during my employment at the former L/G?"
Damian: "Let's just say this contract has nothing to do with profit participation."
Alicia: "So it would have no impact on..."
Damian: "-- That would ... follow."
Alicia: "It would follow that this contract will have no impact on any profit participation during my time at Lockhart-Gardner? Open that gorgeous Irish mouth and say it clearly in the direction of Robyn Burdine for me. Project your voice if you could."
Damian: "...Okay, gotta go. Nice talking to you, Florrick. Stay gold, Robyn Burdine."
He walks out whistling that same song Kalinda was driving to, before he came in here for this epic war of words and ball-bouncing, so you know he's feeling her. They are both stray cats that are better than most of even the strayest of cats, at surviving. Access to levels of morality not even the most nihilistic of the depression sex rats knew about.
When Robyn plays back their convo, she realizes she's had SmackTalk activated, which is a real iPhone app for once -- I get that you're confused, since it's exactly the kind of thing this show would invent and pretend is real -- and it makes their voices all high and sped-up, like Chipmunks, with occasional farting.
Alicia: "Dear God, what is that."
Robyn: "My nephews -- slash the Kings' daughter in real life -- were playing with it over the holidays."
Alicia: "And the digestive distress?"
Robyn: "That only happens when you push the farting button?"
Alicia, wonderfully: "And you ... pushed the 'farting button'?"
Robyn Burdine: "Not on purpose!"
Clarke: "Mrs. Florrick, you didn't sign any of those documents I hope?"
Alicia: "No. Irish law states that if you come to someone's property with documents and go away with them unsigned, you have to leave a loaf of bread on the windowsill by sundown. I figured that way, the holiday party would..."
Clarke: "Because whoever that Matthew Ashbaugh is to you, he was crazy as HELL. I just called a friend in probate court about his estate, and it turns out there is at least one contested will. It bequeaths a charity, Smile Train, $12M..."
Alicia: "I don't even want to know what..."
Clarke: "And the same for you. Twelve mil. Which I guess at least means I'll get paid before 2015. Not to mention some furniture."
Alicia: "I hate money! I get to, because I am so rich."
GOV OFC
Stupid Jackie arranges a crèche in her son's government office, like nobody's going to notice, singin' her Jesus songs, and then takes a million years to answer her stupid phone, which takes three to eighteen tries, some with stupid glasses on, some with stupid glasses off. I like Jackie more than I ever have, this season, but still: Why can't she have one other hobby that isn't climbing around in her kid's jockey shorts all day?
Like just simply one other thing would be equal to, conservatively, five years of therapy for the poor fucked-up guy. Not to mention how all of Peter's Jackie Stuff transmutes into Alicia's Peter Stuff, like, instantly. Watch.
Jackie: "Sorry it took me eleven minutes to answer this phone, but I'm a useless old monster with no love in me. What is up, my dear daughter-in-law?"
Alicia: "Jackie, do you want to come to a party or what."
Jackie: "I love parties! But Peter and I have a date."
Alicia: "Lettin' that slide. I actually just asked him if I could invite you both."
Jackie: "As long as you understand we come as a package deal, because I have nobody else in the entire world, because I am repellent. (And creepily obsessed with him.)"
Alicia: "I actually do understand all of those things. They make me feel better about myself, on days I'm feelin' low."
Eli: "Jackie Florrick, get those motherfucking Christian action figures off my sideboard. You know better than that shit. Stop testing my boundaries."
Jackie: "But look, I have a Hanukkah too! It's bigger than even the Wise Men, just like how Christmas is being destroyed by the liberal media and Christians are being oppressed by people not doing exactly what they tell them to do."
Eli: "That is not a 'Hanukkah,' it's a dreidel, and the second you turn your back I am burning all this crap, so you better grab the stuff that matters to you."
DAMIAN & KALINDA "LEVEL" W/ EACH OTHER (LOL)
Damian: "So you're pretty much following me."
Kalinda: "If that bothers you, have you considered not being sketchy as shit?"
Damian: "No. Look, I already told Will I was negotiating the biting off of Alicia's tiny mouse head and the laying of it tenderly on his pillow."
Kalinda: "Okay, keep her name out your mouth firstly, but also I don't care. Our recapper Jacob thinks you are Sinn Féin and getting us all blown to hell one of these days. Which is fine, I just want to know how involved are you with your old clients."
Damian: "They're criminals, I'm a lawyer. Is that 'involved'? The answer is no. (PS, the answer is yes and/or I am in the IRA and getting us all blown to hell one of these days.)"
MITCH GARBANZA, LACKADAISICAL PI
Eli: "Do you see this name on this list?"
Marilyn: "Eli, you know I can't read. What is this?"
Eli: "This is a list of scum for this party, of Alicia. She is a rough customer!"
Marilyn: "I don't care about that. First of all, authentically I simply don't. Secondly, that bitch seems about ten seconds from stabbing me, so I'm going ghost for a little bit."
Eli: "But Colin Sweeney! The white OJ."
Marilyn: "Is that... Can we say that? Anyway, whatever. He's like the coolest anyway."
Eli: "Marilyn, what are you doing. You always want to ruin everything. It is your whole personality, just ruining shit. Roaming from scene to scene and set to set, ruining everything you see. Putting on jackets upside down and backwards, like you never heard of a jacket before. You even ruin the simple act of putting on clothes. Why must you ruin my ruining? That is some -level shit."
Eli: "You and I both know Peter won't reverse course, and if you won't help me with your usual trumped-up objections to nothing, then you know what I need to do."
Marilyn: "Murder Jackie Florrick."
Eli: "Yeah... Wait, no. What? We have to call Alicia. But good lookin' out. Also, what is with that baby-bump radio that you're strapping to your belly? That is the second or third most annoying thing you have done in the last five seconds."
Marilyn: "Wendy Scott-Carr gets bored in my womb, so I play Bach in there for her."
A JUDGE OTHER THAN JEFFREY TAMBOR PRESIDING
Judge: "So okay, two wills. This happens all the time."
Cary: "This one with Alicia on it was a year later than the one we were previously calling the right one. Sixteen months before Matthew Ashbaugh, sadly, died."
LG: "Yeah, in magic marker."
Cary: "Don't be a 1-L about this. If you have an objection, go for it."
Judge: "Aren't you just the luckiest princess in Luckville. Governor's wife, millionaire heiress, and the prettiest lady in Cook County."
Alicia: "This whole thing is fucking mortifying."
LG: "Just you wait."
Paula Gidfar is a hooker who Matthew Ashbaugh paid to give him enemas and witness the constant magic marker wills he was, apparently, constantly writing and stashing in various safe deposit boxes all across the Midwest. You lost me at "enema," so we will skip to the part where shit gets awesome: Alicia and Cary toss Clarke Hayden out so he can cross-examine her, and he is adorable, and they are super proud of him, which makes him super proud of him, which makes Cary's already intense dimples double down when he sees this, and I don't know. What is like a boner, but in your heart? What would you call that?
Bottom line is that their arrangement was a GFE thing, essentially from "nine to nine," and she witnessed this will at half-past nine in the morning, and thus was not being a hooker at the time, but ... A notary public, I guess. The opposite of a hooker. Although have you noticed that the most unsavory person in your every office is always the notary? I think it's because they have gypsy ways of surviving, and so like this year you find out they're a notary, year it's a real estate license, and also they are nine-tenths of a masseuse, and it just never stops.
Whoa, I just described Will Gardner's girlfriend.
Also, if you want to know what the going rate is for a "nine to nine," it is five grand. Two thousand dollars more than Vivian got for the whole week in Pretty Woman. Which I just realized is still how I ballpark like, all sex work: Based on that one movie. I should watch more recent movies about prostitutes so I don't accidentally price myself into a sex bubble where I don't know what anything costs, like one of those Real Housewives where they're like, "How much does a gallon of milk go for these days? What is that, like five karats of diamonds? Is it like two and a half thoroughbreds for some milk, in our current economy?"
KALINDA
Chases Damian some more, with some truly abysmal Flogging Molly-type bullshit cover of "Hark The Herald Angels" playing. You like the Nineties, that's fine. You can have 'em. All I know is: Ska, Irish punk-pop, and Barenaked Ladies. That's like getting nostalgic and wanting to time-travel back to when polio was an epidemic, in my opinion.
They chat on the phone while they chase all around, and they are a little sexy and a little flirty and very much not into the safety of others. This is why defensive driving: You never know when a bisexual boot-wearing secret identity lady is going to be chasing a roguish Irish lawyer around Chicago's warehouse or t-shirt factory districts, just for some sexy holiday fun. They even stop for a brief meeting about how much fun they're having, and then they're off again.
Finally he asks her out, and you're like, "Blake Calamar got the shit beat out of him playing this exact same game and it was glorious" and she's like, "Yes and I will bring my baseball bat" and then the whole story flips over, because his friend Detective Jenna pulls her over and is actually the person Kalinda will be doing it with, and not Damian at all.
(Or at least, yet. Do you remember when Cary and Dana Lodge had that weird imaginary threesome relationship with Kalinda and nobody knew it was happening because they never talked about it? That was so fucked up. I remember thinking it was kinda fucked up at the time but now, looking back, that is like the most dysfunctional shit imaginable.)
Anyway, now Kalinda is under arrest for the felony of aggravated being hot in a car all over the place, and the sex timer resets to "about one and a half minutes from now, when you turn this chick gay like you always are doing." Which is a good thing, don't get me wrong, but as I said, I'm quickly falling under Doyle's cheeky spell: "Oh, Kalinda! You were drivin' too fast, me love."
SWEET F/A
Reception: "Your daughter is at court, so you have an hour to wait. You could have called instead of just dropping by, but I get that you are a bohemian or whatever."
Veronica: "It's okay, I'm about to take this devastating phone call from a monster that is barely human, and recovering from that will take about an hour anyway."
Jackie: "Veronica! I found your number in a bathroom stall and thought I would just call and check in with you and ask what you're wearing to that party you're not invited to, and don't know about, and never would have heard about, because your daughter doesn't like you very much."
Veronica: "That was ... some efficient goddamn bitch-being, Jackie Florrick."
COURT
Diane: "Your husband, Matthew Ashbaugh. Do you think anybody has ever been as crazy as him?"
F/A: "Lila Ashbaugh is not an expert in the mental health of everyone that has ever existed."
Judge: "Sustained."
FLASHBACK
Matthew: "Baugh Tech is the company I formed, which explains the dumb name of it. And they are deposing me, for being fucking crazy!"
Will: "That is very interesting. Later on, I am going to have sex with Alicia all over the place."
Alicia: "Do you think that in your depo tomorrow -- after Will and I have tons of hot, hot sex on various rooftops -- you could try not being super fucking crazy?"
Matthew: "I do not think that I will be doing that. But I can tell you a secret, which is that I am only pretending to be crazy."
Alicia: "See but that is what a crazy person would say."
"Play the fox, Alicia. It's a saying I made up. It means, act so crazy that when you do go actual crazy nobody will notice. And this will give you power: The power of being underestimated. You know what I'm talking about, you're a woman. You're the star of an entire television show about this. The power of being powerless, and the powerlessness of that."
COURT
Diane: "I didn't follow any of that. What the hell."
Alicia: "Ask him about the Play The Fox motto over Ashbaugh's desk. He will remember me wearing a sexy red dress, even though I remember a more sensible blue number, like I used to wear more often. The only person who really knows what happened back then was Matthew, playing the fox. And now he's dead, so nobody will ever really know what I was wearing, or thinking, or feeling."
Clarke: "That's the second-saddest thing about this."
Clarke: "Will, do you remember that? When you and Alicia were so very much in love, but really she wasn't? And that's actually what all of this is about?"
Will: "That's all it's ever been about."
Clarke: "That's the number one saddest thing. And so, Lila Ashbaugh, did he end up getting ruled incompetent?"
Lila: "No, he always got away with everything. So I guess maybe there's something to his theory after all. But now he's dead. Getting enemas from the whores in Heaven, now."
Judge: "Okay, I have a decision."
Diane: "Damn it. We lost. I can tell from the fact that obviously we would lose this case."
Will: "Wait, no. I just got a terrible, wonderful idea. You know those dreams where you find a door in your house and you open it up and it's like, bonus house you never knew about? It's like that, like I just unlocked a secret power inside of myself of being truly horrible."
Diane: "Are you sure you want to do this? You could do a run-up, some practice horribles first. Picture Barney Rubble's little feet going bonkity-bonkity for a while before he actually runs into the sabretooth's mouth."
Will: "No, I am going straight to 100 percent horrible, if I may."
Cary: "Why did Will Gardner just start glowing with an unearthly sickly red glow?"
Alicia: "Sometimes you can be so angry that it becomes like food, or radioactive particles of your home planet. Sometimes you can be so angry you don't need anything else; it animates your hungry bones, just like how Wendy Scott-Carr is inside Marilyn Garbanza's body, operating it like a robot. It's analogous to playing the fox, in a way
SWEET F/A
Clarke: "Is he for real going to suggest that you seduced Matthew Ashbaugh?"
Alicia: "That's the first thing he's going to suggest, yes. Who knows, maybe I did."
Robyn: "Oh my God, you're here. We have a problem! 835 RSVPs."
Alicia: "What did you, send out a press release? Why do you assholes always do the opposite of what I tell you, and then act like it's my fault for not preventing you from doing it? I hate cleaning up other people's messes. PS, I love cleaning up other people's messes."
Cary: "When you look at me like that, it's like your big sister telling you you're adopted. I know it's not really real, but that doesn't make this icy chunk in my stomach any less real."
Veronica calls to whine and moan, just like Jackie Fucking Florrick intended, but really the whole episode is about this. Well, about two things: Number one, showing us the dark carnival of jagged rocks and broken glass that is the insides of Will Gardner, and number two, getting to watch Alicia spin forty-seven plates on stage at Ed Sullivan while wearing six-inch heels. The more mother(fucker)s show up to give her grief, the more things go wrong with this party, the more she shines and glows, and remembers who she is.
It should not feel sad, to see her ascendant and Will digging these gouges in himself. It shouldn't be sad because she did the right thing -- she saved them, both. And he'll get it eventually. And her breakdown is coming; it's emotional which means, for Alicia, it's getting mailed from very far away. But it's coming. All of these things are true. And yet, glorying in her sexy competence and the way he can't get to her, it's not as satisfying as it should be, because however intimate we are with Will Gardner -- especially after this episode -- that's where she is, all the time. Which makes him just another spinning plate, for the simple reason that he has to be, and somehow that breaks my heart more than anything.
GOV OFC
Jackie: "[Mindless prattling, to the point that you really start to feel her desperation and loneliness and maybe, almost but NOT QUITE, feel bad for her. Like, she already picked out an outfit for their date slash this party, and feels like this is a noteworthy thing she should tell people.]"
Marilyn: "Alicia, can you possibly associate with a better class of people before Friday?"
Alicia: "Marilyn Garbanza, I don't know how else I can make it clear that I am more than willing to physically fight you."
Eli: "I tricked her into joining my team, Team No Fun Ever, by pointing out that Colin Sweeney once got a plea bargain, and therefore Ethics. Mitch, is your baby a composer in there?"
Marilyn: "No, it's my annoying belly speaker system, where I blast not only my baby but also everyone around us with music they don't want to hear."
Alicia: "That makes me think your baby has secrets from the NSA."
Eli: "Please disinvite Colin Sweeney!"
Alicia: "What's funny is that I know you jerks probably already asked Peter not to come, and now you have to come through me, which is bullshit. But sadly I am not doing that. Firstly because it's rude to disinvite a guest from a party and I physically cannot. And second of all, the last time somebody disinvited Colin Sweeney from a party he ate their liver with some fava beans."
COP CAR
Jenna: "I'm going to read a book in this parking lot with you arrested in my backseat until all the arrestees have already left for their bond hearings. That way, you'll be stuck in holding all night."
Kalinda: "Jenna, that sucks of you."
Jenna: "I owe Damian Doyle this one."
Kalinda: "Why does a cop owe favors to a..."
Jenna: "You could try charming me."
Kalinda: "What I do is not exactly what you would call charm. I bewitch, I bewilder, I hypnotize and mesmerize. But 'charm' makes it sound like there is something pleasant about it, and that's not really true either. Rollercoasters aren't pleasant, epinephrine shots directly into your heart are not pleasant..."
I really like the idea of Kalinda trying to think of whether she knows any jokes -- or what a joke even is -- and then being like, "...Got it."
Kalinda: "Whattaya call a boomerang that doesn't come back?"
Jenna: "What."
Kalinda: "A stick."
Jenna: "...And somehow you have already turned me gay just with that joke."
THE DECISION TREE
Will questions Alicia, again and again, mapping out her responses and seeing if he can get anywhere from them. The acting is marvelous because she's not Alicia, exactly: She's younger and dumber and more perfect and she worries about, but does not pity, him. She is afraid of being found out.
Q: "Did Ashbaugh ever threaten to fire you?"
A: "No."
He thinks it's about which will is which; he knows it's really about which Alicia is which, because he doesn't understand that she's both, all the time. And that he is, too. Which Will is which. The decision tree goes back twenty years; it branches and it curls around. Parts are sick, dying, ready to be cut off. But they all look the same from here.
Q: "Did Ashbaugh ever threaten to fire you?"
A: "No. Wait. Yes, kind of."
There was a thing two years ago, when they were at Matthew's apartment in New York. 9/23/11. They were in love, or in a kind of love, and Matthew could tell. They were both at once. Matthew knew her, because he loved her; Will doesn't know her, because he loves her. She plays the fox, he thinks.
She was wearing a low-cut red number, simple blowout, curled at the ends. Her hands were all over him, calming Will and drawing Matthew's eyes.
Matthew: "They're out to get me! This is the one time when I can say that and it won't sound crazy, because I am the founder of a company and I'm getting pushed out! 'They' are literally 'out to get me.'"
Alicia: "I'm afraid you still sound crazy. Look. You're smart, your words are easily twisted, by people who don't see as deeply as you. The sophistication of the message depends on the receiver, Matthew. They use the surface of your words..."
Q: "Stop it, Alicia. Are you married or aren't you? Are you married, Alicia?"
This decision tree goes back twenty years. It's the maypole they've always danced around, in good times and bad. Good timing, and bad.
Q: "And after he asked you that did he threaten to fire you?"
A: "Yes."
Q: "And why did he threaten that?"
A: "I don't know."
She's wearing a white suit, crisp-cut; her eyes betray half the sadness of his. And twice the fear. He's got her on the run, now. If he can make her break, if he can make her cry...
Q: "But later that night, didn't you say that Mr. Ashbaugh was in love with you?"
A: "I was joking, when I said that."
Q: "You were joking? Mr. Ashbaugh was in love with you, and would do anything you asked. You're saying that was a joke?"
She's as disgusted as he is, thinking about it.
She was wearing nothing, on the rooftop; wrapped around them, a silvery-blue duvet.
Alicia: "Don't worry, I can get him to change his mind. He cares about me."
Will: "Wrapped around your finger?"
Alicia: "I have my ways."
She has a job, if she wants it. When she drives off the mommy track and into the wilderness, when that bastard Peter turns on her like we all knew he would, she'll come knocking. She will bring her poison into his house.
Just writing the words down disgusts him, and he begins to cry. Too real, he thinks, and shakes his head.
"This is crazy romantic," Will said, as a bell began to toll out in the city. The weather was perfect. She was perfect.
"This is the happiest I've ever been," she may have whispered. The bell kept going. Some parts are real.
"Mrs. Florrick, you knew he was in love with you and you used it to get your way."
A: "I didn't intentionally use him..."
Q: "So it's ... just the way you are with men?"
She wears it like a scar. She starts to break down. Her eyes are dry, for now. Stephen Crane knew this one:
Many red devils ran from my heart
And out upon the page.
They were so tiny
The pen could mash them.
And many struggled in the ink.
It was strange
To write in this red muck
Of things from my heart.
A: "No. I cared for him, I liked him..."
Q: "And so it was all right to use him?"
A: "You make things sound so simple."
But he's both at once. It's not simple at all; it's Alicia that oversimplifies, when it suits her. When Gracie goes missing, or he wins an election, she's married. When she needs a job, or they're in New York -- when he's offering her a partnership, when he's offering her the world -- it's complicated. This red muck of things; this exorcism.
When she smiles past him, into the bathroom in his office, and they remember what they did there, it's simple. And then she leaves, minutes later. You can try to tell the story if you want, you can follow the decision tree all the way back but it won't help: This is happening now. His heart is breaking now.
A: "That's not fair..."
Q: "I loved you. You made me believe that, so that you could steal my clients."
Kalinda knew. She didn't bother telling Alicia the story, she didn't bother hauling her back up the decision tree, because she knew it wouldn't matter; she knew it was happening now. But at least Alicia had the benefit of knowing Peter, and knowing Kalinda; at least she could imagine the story for herself. Will doesn't have that privilege, because he was never there. He never knew her at all. One minute she was a woman in a tough spot, pulled away from true love by her constant obligations; the minute, she was a beast that slumped in through the front door, disguised as love. That took everything. And the moon is fucked up and the seasons are confused, because she broke the world.
When she begins to cry, finally, it turns out that wasn't what he wanted at all; it is disgusting, suddenly. It's not a bloody Valentine, for a moment: For a moment he could hate her, simply hate her. Rule the world.
"Stop it! I don't like it when you're weak."
He's still thinking about it, climbing the tree and falling down again, when Isobel retrieves him, for sleep. "Let it go," she says. "I'm here now."
Every Will up the tree, all the way back, squeezes his eyes shut, willing her out. Subtract love and add hate, and she never made a fool of you at all.
When you're weak there's a favor you can do yourself. It's monstrous, it's a form of suicide, and of magic. At midnight with a candle lit, you reach into your chest and find a delicate apparatus there, a bell that rings only for her, a clockwork bird that crows for her, lights up when she is there and goes dark and cold when she is not. And this is how you will survive, when you're weak.
There will always be a space ripped where that tiny little engine was, when it was working; you will have to find new ways to love, because that machine is gone, and cold. Stephen Crane, again:
In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
“It is bitter -- bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
"Because it is bitter,
"And because it is my heart."
GOV OFC, PM
Peter's getting his coat on when Eli shows up, grinning almost literally from ear to ear, in his carnivorous way. The Eli Gold effect, in which everything produces the same kind of childlike, beautiful glee, no matter how ugly or compromised.
Eli: "Donna Brazile wants to meet!"
Peter: "I refuse to believe that's about..."
Eli: "The DNC doesn't just need a President, they need a VP too. Biden and Hillary would never bend for each other. They need new talent..."
Peter: "They need a stalking horse."
Eli: "I have a mangled understanding of that concept, because it is the way I live my entire life."
But oh, guess what: There's a problem. She's only in town Friday, the night Peter's already double-booked. Eli attempts to frown, but his mouth is both at once.
Peter: "Eli, I will be almost impressed to learn that you're pulling a..."
Eli: "Peter! I'm so sure I'd arrange a meeting with Donna Brazile, just to keep you from going to your wife's holiday party. Think it through."
Peter: "Okay. At most you're loving it, I guess. Donna doesn't play your dumb games. So fine. I will call my wife myself, though. I can spin it in a way that sounds like a human being, since I am one and you're just a brownie from under the hill who doesn't give a shit about anything."
APRÈS-SEXE
Jenna: "That was excellent lesbian sex we had."
Kalinda: "How long were you a beat cop? Do you still have holster scars?"
Jenna: "One would think you'd know that, having just had sex with me."
Ladies: [Chattin' about guns and doing it all sexy style.]
Jenna: "So you realllllly wanna ask me about Damian Doyle, huh?"
Kalinda: "Obviously. Did you think I was here to have sex with you? Were you not tipped off by the five other straight ladies and one tiny gay dude I had sex with on our way here?"
Jenna: "I wish that I could tell you more, but I still like him more than I like you."
Kalinda: "Again, interesting word choice. You won't ever like me, but I will Kalinda you harder than he could ever dream of doing, which equals the same effect."
JACKIE
The Kings said the funniest thing about her, which is that she thrives literally on power and attention, so that now -- with her son as the Governor and no reason to fight anybody -- is the youngest she's ever been in the time we've known her. Like a literal vampire of loneliness. And I just love that idea so much: We see how she's able to pull the schemes she's been pulling lately, and the fight she brings to it, and her amazing outfits (she looks like a million bucks this season) and even this, the way she's rearranging the crèche in Peter's office where Eli can't yell at her about it.
I don't love it for mean reasons, like how pathetic that is -- I don't need a reason to be mean about Jackie Florrick -- and I don't really even love it in my usual way I go on and on about -- feminism through the ages -- but I do like the way the Gubernatorial storyline gives us a fresh new version of Jackie, and it makes sense, and pivots her role in the show, in a way that's actually pretty harrowing. And all of this too because she is the kind of person who stayed married to the Judge: The decision that's so hard for Alicia (or at least she thinks it is, or would like to think of herself that way; it's a branching tree) was never hard for her, because where Alicia lives on her own moral superiority, Jackie takes her sustenance from the reflected halo.
What is to Jackie a virtue -- overlooking the faults in the men we love -- is, again and again, the only misstep that Alicia ever uses to bring the world down around her. If she acted like Jackie, if she didn't push back at least nominally, Peter would cheat on her today. I mean, it just makes the craziest sense. And you can see where, coming from her own fraught maternal relationship of composing herself in the negative space around her messy, sloppy mother, that's a no-fly zone in Alicia's head. And that's before you add her own relationships with her children, and how that reflects back on both of the Florricks, and thence back up. It's a tree that branches, and branches again, sometimes repeating the past and sometimes defining itself in opposition to it; sometimes doing one while pretending, or failing, to do the other.
ASHBAUGH
Anyway, Jackie just called to ask if she can bring a friend to the party, which doesn't really come up again so it'll probably be something weird for the January premiere, but also just adds to the spinning plates of her life. Alicia's voice is always firm when she speaks with Jackie, because Jackie is a fucking piece of work, but she works so hard in all areas of life to never betray her annoyance: This, more than anything, gives her away as she's heading into court to see Will again.
"Jackie, I'm heading into court right now, what can I help you with." Just the exhaustion in it, the "Fuckin' I already fed you today, you insatiable monster. WHAT."
Will joins her at the foot of the tree, and it's less a choice than a natural response that she refuses to dance around it with him.
Q: "Good morning, Mrs. Florrick."
A: "Good morning to you!"
Q: "You've been Mr. Ashbaugh's attorney about two years, did Mr. Ashbaugh ever threaten to fire you as his attorney over those two years?"
A: "Yes."
Answer the questions as asked, she always tells them. Never give them more than they ask for: Not in your voice, your face, your body, but certainly not in words. Those get written down.
There was a thing two years ago, when they were at Matthew's apartment in New York. 9/23/11. They were in love, or in a kind of love, and Matthew could tell. They were both at once.
She was wearing a demure blue number. Will was her best and oldest friend; they made love on a balcony. It was the happiest she'd ever been.
A: "...I wasn't finished. Mr. Ashbaugh thought that he should be allowed to testify to some of the concerns he had over the board members. We argued that was not essential to the facts."
Q: "And did you change his mind? Did you claim Mr. Ashbaugh was in love with you?"
A: "...Yep. I knew I could use that love to manipulate him, I said it was a possibility."
She knows him because she loves him; she refuses to play the fox. If you laid her decision tree down over his, they'd be isometric. It's for the best that we are unmappable.
Q: "And so, did you manipulate him into signing off on his will?"
A: "Sure as hell did, Mr. Gardner."
Cary: "Your Honor, can I request a brief what the fuck?"
Dunaway: "No, we're good. Alicia, you were saying?"
Q: "This manipulation, in your opinion would this constitute undue influence?"
A: "Unfortunately I think it did."
Any other day, he'd know better than to let her say this out loud, on record. Any other day, any other witness, any other woman: He'd see it. But he wants so badly to make her weak. He wants the story -- the horrible story that broke him, again, last night -- to be true. Because it is bitter, and because it's his heart.
Q: "And can I rule out anyone else being involved with this manipulation?"
A: "David Lee."
Q: "David Lee was involved with this will?"
A: "No, bitch. The other one."
He doesn't like it when she's weak. But he doesn't like her winning, either. For a moment he's a creature; squatting, bestial.
Cary: "Uh, I will go ahead and handle the motherfucking cross, if I may."
Dunaway: "Oh yeah, this is the coolest thing I've seen all year. Hit it."
The rest, but for Will's slowly crumpling face and the war between St. Alicia and the actual woman over whether to glory in this -- in overcoming the absolute insult of this, over and above his petty man anger, that he would bother to compare himself to Matthew Ashbaugh, the hideous things that says about them both -- is already written: Alicia cops to manipulating Matthew into writing the will that names his widow, and now that's a matter of record.
"Mr. Ashbaugh was delaying. Mr. Lee asked me to... prime the pump, I believe were his words."
She's wearing a black suit, the cleanest lines, the freshest makeup. Her eyes betray nothing at all. With Matthew as your stalking horse, she would say. You betray yourself.
I don't like you when you're weak.
TOWNCAR
Peter: "Donna! You are the best. You know that Eli over there thinks this is about 2016."
Donna: "Kind of, but in the vaguest possible terms. I want to know what you think."
(Ring-ring.)
Peter: "It's just my mom, NBD."
Donna: "I am a black lady. Answer your phone immediately."
Eli: "She's not a 'mom' like you're thinking. She is a monster."
Donna: "Nevertheless."
Peter: "Mom, what's up... Oh, crap. I didn't realize this had become about you. Fine."
Donna: "Clearly you have other stuff going on..."
Eli: "No, he most certainly doesn't."
Peter: "Donna, do you like parties?"
Donna: "How fast can we get there."
Peter and Donna, oh how they laugh. Eli Gold, how horrified can he be? I would think this makes Donna the stalking horse, though: Does it matter if the internet finds a picture of Peter talking to Colin Sweeney or whoever, if Donna is right there also being horrified? Who is left, at that point, to give a shit? Just little Eli. Little tiny Eli in his elf boots, stamping feet and clutching fists.
Alicia: "Eli? I can't hear you because of all the noise at this party of scum!"
Eli: "Alicia, we're ... oh Jesus ... we're coming to the party."
Alicia: "You say that like it's a murder spree. Great!"
Eli: "We're bringing ... God, this hurts ... Donna Brazile."
Alicia: "Did you just goddamn say you're bringing Donna Brazile to my office party?"
Sometimes she's married; it's very simple, sometimes.
Eli: "It's nuts but you know Peter and how much they love him when he starts working them."
Alicia: "Yeah, we have that in common."
Eli: "Is Colin Sweeney there? Has he murdered anybody yet or impregnated any blowjobs yet?"
Alicia: "He's not even coming, you little cutie."
Eli: "Thank you Christian Christmas Jesus! I won't ask about the million other people I should be asking about now, because that puts me all at ease."
Alicia: "Hey can you please bring Marilyn Garbanza too? J/K LOL."
Kids: "Are we millionaires yet?"
Alicia: "In terms of how much we love each other."
Kids: "What can we buy with that?"
Alicia: "Nothing. You use money to buy things. Money like you get from how your mother and father are both fucking rich as hell anyway. You're the children of a high-powered lawyer and a state governor, give me a fucking break already."
Alicia: "Oh shit, son! Lemond Bishop's over there, Eli's gonna go ham."
Kids: "Who is Lemond Bishop? He seems awesome."
Alicia: "He is very awesome. He has killed more of his wives than even Colin Sweeney. But the headline is, he's also the top drug dealer in Chicago."
Zach, verbatim: "Sometimes I think of you as Mom, and other times just as this interesting person who lives at our house."
Best line of the night. That is awesome. Way to make it count, Zachar... Oh, and they're gone.
Alicia: "Hey Cary? What the hell w/r/t Lemond Bishop?"
Cary: "Oh, he's here? Awesome!"
Robyn: "That was me. Didn't you want him as a client?"
Alicia: "Stop pointing out my contradic... Oh shit, more plates."
Veronica: "Because we don't actually have a national religion in America, Jackie?"
Jackie: "What does that have to with office decorations?"
Veronica: "Because it's insensitive and shitty to show off when you're the majority? Because you're literally saying it's okay for you to be in here but never forget who owns this shit?"
Jackie: "You liberals, constantly respecting people. It's because you're DRUNK!"
Veronica: "Your old ass is drunk too, you horror."
Alicia: "Kids? Take those bitches down, please. I don't have time for that crap."
Kids: "Done."
RING-RING
Alicia: "Florrick, Agos & Associates."
Will: "Oh. Hmm. I was calling Cary. Awkward."
Alicia: "Really isn't. Everything okay?"
Will: "Kind of. We found another safe deposit box in Ashbaugh's name. Four more wills, for four more women. I guess it's just a thing he does."
Alicia: "Did."
Will: "You say that like it's not still happening. Like it's not going to be always happening, at least until I scar over."
Alicia: "Anything else, buddy?"
Will: "Honestly, the point of this exercise was to burn our bridge, so..."
Alicia: "Thanks for calling, Will. It's nice to be done with all that."
Will: "Happy holidays, Alicia."
The Kings, again -- I read their interviews and stuff every week, but this round was especially interesting -- talked about how Robert saw that as a "fuck you" and Michelle saw it as something a little cleaner, or like more fully progressed, and then Josh Charles ended up -- correctly, I think, and they seem mostly to agree -- doing it the same as in 505, when he remembered to tell her about Grace's field trip. Only not as an afterthought of love, with that stinging aftertaste at the end, but just: I am going to survive this and eventually stop sending you valentines of any kind, bloody or otherwise, so thank you for being a part of that process and I'm going to leave you alone now and have a good party.
Like, I always think of this Erika Lopez cartoon from the '90s about porn and how sometimes the very second you're done masturbating you're just like, That was so stupid. He needed to get this thing done, and he did it, and now he has enough clarity to be like, "Ugh." Doesn't change the fact that it needed getting done -- or how beautiful, or powerful, it was -- just that when you're done, you go back to the person you were before the fever came over you.
Notable too that, even though LG rescheduled their party to maybe fuck with F/A, the most we see is this conversation: Will, alone at his desk with a glass of champagne, calling to tell Cary their girl's story's over for the night.
So Lemond Bishop approaches Peter -- "I usually vote Republican, but..." -- which meant I had to stop and explain to Alison that I was watching it with, "Yes, you are right about the pattern you have detected, in fact most black people do love the shit out of Peter Florrick, and yes there's a fairly valid reason for that, but it's a long story and it doesn't matter right now except that it gives him extra DNC value you might not understand from just this one episode. Suffice to say that in order to get a corrupt white prosecutor from Cook County elected Governor he'd need to be both married to Alicia Florrick and pretty fucking magical in his own right."
(Verdict: She is now watching the show. I thought it was dicey when the decision tree stuff started, but she said it was the rare thing where knowing it was built from 4.5 seasons didn't diminish the experience in the moment. A thing I've been curious about all season long, as far as the ongoing "best season ever" chatter, and how much of that is due to the accretion of meaning over the course of the series. Verdict, again, no: This is just very good television, either way.)
Eli: "Stop talking to him stop talking to him stop talking to him."
Lemond: "Let's chat some time. About charities!"
Eli: "Look there's Alicia let's go see Alicia."
Donna: "Uh, was that who I think it was?"
Eli: "Keep moving keep moving keep moving."
Cary: "Mr. Governor, Ms. Brazile..."
Eli: "Lemond Fucking Bishop?"
Alicia: "I know, right? LOL."
Eli: "I need a drink, barkeep."
Veronica: "Marilyn Garbanza, why is music coming out of your stomach?"
Mitch: "To remind Alicia of Matthew Ashbaugh, mostly. But also for my demon baby that Wendy Scott-Carr put in there when the moon was full."
Veronica: "It's a boy? I love boys. Mine turned out like an awesome mix between me and his sister. What kind of names are you thinking of? Garbanza's a hell of a..."
Marilyn: "I'm thinking Peter."
Eli: "Christmas Jesus!"
The end. Freeze-frame on Eli spitting out his drink, to pick up year a split-second later, with all these things still happening, which will be utterly amazing. Until then, stay strong and be good. But not too good. XOXO.
JACOB CLIFTON is a freelance writer and critic based in Austin, Texas. He currently recaps The Good Wife, Homeland, Hostages, and Masters Of Sex for TWoP. Jacob can be found online at jacobclifton.com, Twitter, and Facebook.